


You Times Two

by Captain_Meowvel



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Adrien Agreste | Chat Noir Identity Reveal, Adrigami and Lukanette Ship Destruction Assured, Adrinette | Adrien Agreste/Marinette Dupain-Cheng, Angst, Beta-read by writeringoodfaith, Character Development, Detective Adrien Agreste | Chat Noir, Drama, Eventual Full Reveal, F/M, Fluff, Guardian Marinette Dupain-Cheng, Humor, In Character, Jealadrien, Jealous Adrien Agreste | Chat Noir, Jealous Marinette Dupain-Cheng, Ladrien | Adrien Agreste/Marinette Dupain-Cheng as Ladybug, Ladynoir | Adrien Agreste as Chat Noir/Marinette Dupain-Cheng as Ladybug, Marichat | Adrien Agreste as Chat Noir/Marinette Dupain-Cheng, Marinette Dupain-Cheng Finds Out First, Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug Knows Adrien Agreste Is Chat Noir, Post Season 3 Finale, Post-Season/Series 03, Pre NY Special, Romance, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-04
Updated: 2020-08-22
Packaged: 2021-02-28 02:53:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 41,248
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22556620
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Captain_Meowvel/pseuds/Captain_Meowvel
Summary: Ladybug knew this was necessary. She was the Guardian. He had the Cat Miraculous. But when his suit evaporated in a glow of pale green, she sure hadn’t expected him to have something far more precious: her heart.In the wake of her discovery, she’s haunted by the ramifications of Chat Blanc and the insurmountable fear of failing not only as Ladybug, but as the Guardian as well.To make matters worse, Adrien is unwittingly chipping away at her mask, and although the fate of the world is at stake, she’s not sure she’s strong enough to rebuild the wall between them.(Post Season 3.)5 Feb 2021: Life's been getting in the way, but know that this fic hasn't been forgotten! <3
Relationships: Adrien Agreste | Chat Noir/Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug
Comments: 310
Kudos: 443





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So after the heartache that was Miracle Queen, I couldn't resist writing about these adorable knuckleheads. My intention is to address the problems that Season 3 presented: Adrien drifting toward Kagami, Marinette drifting toward Luka, the aftermath of Chat Blanc, Marinette being the new Guardian, and the Peacock Miraculous now being fixed. Everything will be as in-character as possible, emotions will be explored, and this story's gonna be long.
> 
> An enormous THANK YOU to [writeringoodfaith](https://archiveofourown.org/users/writeringoodfaith/pseuds/writeringoodfaith) for being this story's amazing beta-reader. You're living proof that not all heroes have a Miraculous. <3
> 
> Now buckle up, people, 'cause this is gonna be a doozy! :D

A Parisian night is many things.

Still isn't one of them.

Nor is silent.

And forget about dark.

At least, not from Ladybug's point of view. Air whistled past her eardrums, muffling the animated chatter from nearby eateries as she swept off steel lampposts, over puffing chimneys, across bustling streets.

With a graceful flip, her feet pecked the pavement just shy of the Pont d'Iena, the bridge that bowed before the Eiffel Tower. A nearby tween prodded her blonde friend, propelling an excited finger in Ladybug's direction. She sent them a smile and a merry salute, then launched off the pavement and onto the nearest lamppost.

The Seine River was languid as always, vivid city lights painting a blurry masterpiece upon its surface. Her reflection joined the canvas, a flurry of red as she zipped over the velvety water.

Just as she reached the Eiffel Tower, an array of lights burst to life upon its iron shell, sparkling like her living room at Christmas. At its peak, beacons shot streams of pale blue out into the night.

She pursed her lips, squinting up at the iron behemoth. It must've just hit nine o'clock, given the light display happened on the hour. She flicked up the screen on her yoyo. According to her Kitty Tracker, he hadn't moved. An uneventful patrol, it seemed.

Luck was usually in her favour, but she wasn't so sure this time around.

Chewing on her lip, she hurled her yoyo toward a nearby beam and began the familiar ascent. After a few leaps and swings, she was perfectly poised upon the russet brown fence that wrapped around the summit of the Eiffel Tower. The expansive view of Paris made it an ideal patrol point.

Chat Noir was perched upon that very same fence, gazing out at the shimmering sea of lights below. His cat ears perked up the second she appeared and in an instant, a smile split his lips. His torso twisted as he faced her from the waist up. "Why hello, Ladybug!" He threw his legs over the railing and onto the ground, his tail swaying behind him. The evening breeze tousled his hair as he bowed. "And here I was thinking the Eiffel Tower couldn't shine any brighter." He peered up at her from through his blond bangs, a glint in his eyes.

With a roll of her own eyes, she dropped from the fence. "Silly kitty," she giggled, shaking her head. "You didn't need to stand up just for me."

That only earned a wider grin from her partner, but she chose not to comment. Instead, she crossed her arms, propped them atop the railing and surveyed the city below. "Anything to report?"

With a sigh, Chat leaned against the same railing, mirroring her posture. "Other than a whole lotta nothing?"

She nestled her chin in her palm. "A quiet night, huh?"

"Very." He drummed his claws against the railing, the dull clink of metal meeting her ears. "Usually, I'd be itching for something to do, but after everything that happened last week…"

She hummed in agreement. "A little peace and quiet is a welcomed relief, that's for sure."

Silence washed over them. The whistles of the wind, the whirr of evening traffic, the occasional car horn; it all seemed louder in that moment of quiet.

Ladybug had grown accustomed to intermissions of silence here and there, spritzed amid banter and chit-chat on the evening patrols they sometimes shared. Usually, it wasn't awkward in the slightest.

In fact, it was calming.

But tonight was different, for there was a reason she'd interrupted his solo patrol.

 _She_ knew it. _He_ knew it. And they were _both_ eager for her to elaborate.

If only she could find the right words. Or rather, _re-find_ them.

Like a dreaded school speech, she'd rehearsed this moment with Tikki _all week_. At least twenty times if her ever-patient kwami hadn't been teasing about keeping count.

It seemed silly, really.

Chat was her partner. She knew he'd bear no ill will over her decision. He rarely did. And on those odd occasions that she _did_ upset him, he always bounced right back that very same day. So why was this so hard?

"Hey, LB?"

Her eyes shot his way, fingers digging into her palms.

"While we're on the topic of last week, there's… something I've been meaning to tell you." His voice was oddly soft, a tone he reserved for his rarely-seen serious moments.

 _Were_ those times all that rare lately? Sure, he still cracked puns and sent cheeky remarks her way, but he'd toned the flirting down tenfold. Goodness, he hadn't called her M'Lady in over a week—she almost missed it, a thought she would _never_ give voice.

Chat's hand settled atop her fist, and her fingers relaxed beneath the comforting weight. She didn't miss the pair of green eyes that were now set on her, or the way thought hazed their depths.

He was gathering his words, she realised.

So she let him.

She turned to the sprawling metropolis ahead, glittering like a jewel that ought to be treasured and this time, she let herself enjoy the view, rather than survey it.

Maybe half a minute ticked by before Chat spoke up, his eyes fixed on the vast cityscape. "I know being Ladybug is hard work. You're under a lot of pressure every single day and there's almost no one you can talk to about it." Then he looked at her, his face softening. "And now that you're the Guardian too… well, I can't even imagine how much pressure you must be under." A smile formed on his lips. It was small and delicate, woven from solace rather than joy; it warmed her, calmed her, made her feel a little less alone in all of this. Just like the slightest squeeze he gave her hand, still beneath his own. "I guess all I want to say is that I'm here for you, _always_."

Tears throbbed behind her eyes as she tackled a wide-eyed Chat, and soon felt the comforting weight of his arms around her too. "I know you are," she whispered into his shoulder, voice breaking. "Thank you, Chat Noir."

Another silence drifted over them and this time, it was warm and calming and just like she remembered. Her arms around him, and his around her, might've had a part to play—not that they'd admit that aloud.

To her surprise, Chat was the one to end the embrace, complete with a strained cough into his right fist. Yup, something was _definitely_ up with him lately.

Her arms twisted behind her back, while the front of her foot pressed back and forth into the ground, as though that'd smudge away her theories on why he's been so withdrawn.

A veil washed over his masked face, any traces of unease now replaced by a cheeky smirk. Cue the puns in three, two, one— "So, what brings mew here on this fine Parisian evening? At the tail end of my patrol, might I add." His back was against the railing, his palms pressing upon its iron top for support. "Something on your mind, LB? Or did you just miss this pawsome kitty?"

"Actually," she drawled, toying with one of her pigtails, "there _is_ something."

Just like that, laughter faded from his eyes. "Oh?"

To Ladybug, the ground was suddenly very interesting. "I've been meaning to talk to you about it all week, but I just… I guess I don't know how to say it?"

"Well, sometimes there _is_ no right way to say something." He placed his hands atop her shoulders, his soft smile making its way to his eyes. "Sometimes you just have to come out and say it."

"It's just that"—she glanced away for one thought-gathering moment—"I don't want to upset you."

"I can never stay mad at you, Ladybug." He winked. "You should know that by now."

A sigh slid from her lips, dispersing just a fraction of her nerves.

Well, here goes.

"This past week, I've thought a lot about my new responsibilities. I've been trying to figure out what kind of Guardian I need to be." She refocused her gaze on his own, and for a moment she felt like her suit had scattered from her skin, exposing the bumbling girl beneath. "Basically, there's one thing I know for sure. I need to keep tabs on the whereabouts of every Miraculous."

His eyes widened, so briefly she'd have missed it if she'd blinked.

"Are you saying that…"

She shied away from his gaze, rubbing her left bicep with her right hand. It took way longer than it should've to manage a measly nod. "I… need to know who you are."

"R-Really?" He shot upright, eyes twinkling, an ear-to-ear grin blooming on his face. "That – That's _great_!"

But his face fell when he took in her posture; the way her shoulders hunched, her stare rising no higher than his feet.

That's when he realised the reason for her concern: this would be a one-sided thing.

"Oh."

She turned away from that face – that deflated look she _knew_ was coming – and brought a quaking hand to her chest. "I'm… I'm sorry, Chat. I don't have a choice."

His hand was on her shoulder, light as a leaf, and he carefully turned her to face him. "But you're the Guardian." He was smiling, but she was sure she'd caught his lips twitch. "Don't you kinda… y'know… _make_ the rules? What if something happens to you?" He gripped both of her shoulders now, as though afraid she'd float away unless he held her down. "If no one knows who you are…"

She shook her head. "If I reveal my identity to you, there's no taking that back." Any certainty she'd had seemed to have thrown itself over the railing the second she'd seen that dang _look_ on Chat's face. "I… I need more time. I need to be sure it's the right thing to do." She didn't even know who she was trying to convince at this point.

He eased a sigh through his nose, smiling gently. "I understand, Ladybug." This time, it was him who pulled her in for a hug, brief as it was. "You know I'll always support whatever decision you make." He held a hand up to his mouth and cleared his throat, half-hiding a smirk; she braced herself for what followed. "So"—he leaned well within her personal bubble, only for her to place a finger on his nose to push him right back out of it—"I should probably warn you, there's a _very_ real chance you'll fall for my unrivalled charm and devilishly good looks."

Her smirk in that moment mirrored his own. "I doubt that'll happen, but thanks for the warning."

The spark in his eyes only proved he wasn't done. "Hey, we're a long way up,"—he shrugged with fake indifference—"and last I heard, ladybugs don't always land on their feet."

She held her nose high. "Well, Kitty"—laughter lined her voice—"I don't know what documentaries _you've_ been watching, but I can assure you that _this_ ladybug _always_ lands on her feet!"

He leaned in close. "Remind me of how we met again?"

"Just drop the clown costume, _Kitty_ Noir," she said, flicking his bell.

"As M—err, the lady commands."

When he glanced at his feet, pink pinching his cheeks, Ladybug wasn't sure if his stutter or the anticipation was to blame. In any case, he seemed to recover quickly.

Straightening to his full height, Chat exhaled a slow, shaky breath as his eyes scanned the summit of the tower, ensuring they were alone. "Okay," he said, more to himself than to her. "Here goes…"

Ladybug showed him a smile of reassurance. Inside, however, her heart thumped hard and fast, each beat echoing in her eardrums. He was her partner. Knowing who he was wouldn't change that. And off the top of her head, she couldn't even think of a guy she'd be disappointed to find behind the mask. At least, not from the list of guys who were actually kind enough to _be_ —

"Claws in."

When his suit evaporated in a glow of pale green, she hadn't expected it to take her every coherent thought along with it. Her eye twitched. Or had that been her lip? At this point, she was almost convinced her _everything_ was spasming.

If one compared her brain to a single thing in that moment, it would be the dreaded, ear-shredding sound of a struggling dial up connection. Or maybe a nuclear explosion, detonating in her brain, its shockwaves rattling around in her skull, turning its contents to complete and utter mush.

"Adrien Agreste," he announced with a bow, his lightly tanned hand flicking out with polished flare. Adrien peered up at her with those gorgeous green eyes, that stunning smile, his… his beautiful _everything_.

Returning to full height, his thick, silver ring – _his Miraculous_ – caught the light of a few nearby wall lamps as he extended a hand. "Pleased to officially meet you, Ladybug." He nodded toward a black creature with round, bright green eyes, who'd nestled lazily across his shoulder, stretching like a lithe cat. "You've already met my kwami, Plagg."

At those words, Ladybug snapped out of her stupor, only to stumble straight into a string of stutters.

"… A… A… _Adrien_?"

She could've sworn she heard Plagg mutter something suspiciously akin to, "Here we go."

If her ears really hadn't been failing her, Adrien must've been ignoring the comment. All he had to say was, "Yup, that's me-ow!" before he glanced at his outstretched hand, then back to her, and his brows creased.

"You're… You're… You're _Chat Noir_ …"

It was a statement, not a question—and it slapped her hard across her rapidly reddening face.

The line between his brows deepened as he gave his outstretched hand a lingering look, then dropped it to his side. His eyes sunk down and to his left. "Is… that okay?" A few seconds later, he dared to recapture her gaze, a ghost of a smile on his full lips. She could've sworn a hint of pink had crept across his cheeks.

Ladybug shot ramrod straight. "No! I mean _yes_! I mean – you're _perfect_. Uhh – _This_ is perfect. Us _together_ is perfect – as partners… who lime kite— _crime fight_!" She dropped her head and groaned, sure he could no longer tell where her cheeks ended and her mask began.

"So, uhh…" He bit his lip, his hand sliding behind his head to rub his neck. "From your reaction, does that mean we maybe… know each other?" His eyes gazed into hers, outshining every single light in the city around them.

"Know… each other?" The phrase floated from her lips, a direct contrast to the shrill squeaks of her next words. "What?! _No_!" Her hands slapped her cheeks as some sort of giggle-groan hybrid squeezed up her throat. "I just… I just snow – uhh – _know_ you from the – err – modelling! I… I mean… the… you! You're a famous model, right?" Another giggle. "Your – Your face is _all over_ Paris! I'd be crazy _not_ to know you." Her chest tightened. "As – As a famous person, that is. Not as a real-life friend. I… I mean, not that you _aren't_ my friend because you're Chat Noir and he's— _you_ are totally one of my _bestest_ friends and – and, technically we _have_ met as Ladrien – erm – Adrien and Bug Lady— _Ladybug_!"

Adrien blinked twice. "So," he drawled, tilting his head, "we _don't_ know each other then?"

"Yes!" In that moment, the white of her eyes completely encased her blue irises. "I mean _no_!" She gripped her scalp. "I mean – _Yes_ , we _don't_ know each other in real life!" Her arms slapped firmly to her sides as she glanced left and right, avoiding his gaze. "Err – Not that I could tell you if we _did_ , but, well… I mean, that doesn't matter because I've _totally_ never met you before as a pavilion— _civilian_!" She gripped her yoyo, desperate to busy her quaking hands. "And like I said, even if we glad— _had_ , I could tell you – I mean, I _couldn't_ tell you, but that doesn't matter because we _never_ have—" She threw her hands in the air for added emphasis, only to regret it within a millisecond.

Out of the corner of her eye, something small and red went flying over the handrailing. And she was sure she'd glimpsed Adrien's and Plagg's green eyes follow the item when it had slipped from her hand and made its descent toward the ground far below.

Her eyes crept down to her hip, praying her clumsiness could spare her even a _sliver_ of mercy tonight.

Alas, no such luck.

She looked up at Adrien and Plagg, revealing a pained grin. Maybe she was just seeing things, courtesy of her near-hyperventilation, and maybe – _oh please, maybe_ – the thing Adrien and Plagg had been staring at had been nothing more than a pigeon.

"Ladybug, why don't I carry you down there to grab your—"

"NO!"

His eyes flew wide as she leaped back so swiftly she might've just broken the barrier of sound.

"I… I mean, no spank you!" Her life flashed before her eyes. "No _thank you_ ," she wheezed, clenching her eyes shut as though that would help force the words through her lips. "But – But I'll just – uhh – walk… down… the stairs. Because there's nothing spicer— _nicer_ than a late-night troll— _stroll_ down the Eiffel Tower." She swung her arm out in front of her and said, "Am I _right_?"

By the look on Adrien's face, it was clear her word vomit had his brain spinning with endless questions, but he must've realised asking them all _now_ was a lost cause. That didn't stop him from asking her at least a couple, both currently relevant.

"But what if someone finds your yoyo before you do?" He rubbed his chin, watching her. "Could something bad come out of that?"

"Oh, that?" She waved a dismissive hand. "Pfft! Noooo! It'll be fiiiine! Even if shum run – fun lum – _someone_ does find my toto before me, all I've gotta say is spots o—" A squeal shot from her mouth and she half-expected her suit to scatter in a flash of blinding pink. A single, frantic onceover assured her that that wasn’t the case, and she heaved a sigh. "Err – What I meant to say was… I'll just de-France – de- _trans_ form and I'll drab my yoyo back next chime!"

"Are… you sure you're okay?" He took a carefully placed step forward, reaching for her shoulder. "You seem—"

"I'M FINE!" Ladybug practically screamed, lunging out of his reach. His face dropped along with his shoulders and guilt twisted her stomach in knots. "Uhh… What I _mean_ is… I'm just tired is all – uhh – but… but not too tired for a depressing— _refreshing_ walk down Paris' tallest building!" She straightened, like something had captured her interest. "And—oh. I think I just – uhh – heard my earrings creep!" She tapped her right ear twice. "So I'd better – y'know – _go_." With a cough into her still-trembling fist, she shuffled toward the stairwell, past an elevator that – to her dismay – was not for public use. "Gue-Guess we'll chat later, Chadrien – _Adrien_!"

"Sure, I'll…"

Ladybug was already halfway to the stairs.

"… see you… at… patrol tomorrow…"

Only once she was on the stairs and out of earshot did Adrien glance at his kwami. "Plagg, did she seem a little… _off_ to you?"

Plagg zipped off his shoulder to float in front of his face. "A _little_?" He snorted, waving a dismissive paw. "Now where's my cheese? I'm _starving_!"

Adrien shot him a look. "Really, Plagg? Ladybug just found out my secret identity and all you have to say is that you're _hungry_?"

" _Starving_ , not hungry," Plagg pointed out, crossing his arms. "There's a difference, you know—" His green eyes lit up at the generously portioned, cream-coloured morsel now between Adrien's thumb and index finger, partly encased by a thick layer of rind.

Adrien flung it in the air and watched the way Plagg dove for his dinner, like some kind of wild animal. When it came to cheese that description really wasn't far off, if Adrien was honest.

The sound of desperate chewing was muffled by the myriad of thoughts that raced through his mind. He trudged toward the railing, opting for a more poignant view than a maze of iron bars. This time, when he leaned against the railing with criss-crossed arms, it was cool against his now-bare skin, and he shivered.

"You know," he said after a time, "I feel like she reminded me of someone." He tapped his chin, pursing his lips. "But I just can't figure out _who_."

If Plagg hadn't been floating, he might've just jumped. "Uhh, _yeah_ ," he stammered, whirling around Adrien to plop down on the railing. "She reminds you of Ladybug. _Duh!_ "

Adrien shot Plagg a sideways glance, arching a brow. "Didn't you just say she seemed _more_ than a little off?"

"That was _before_ I savoured the deliciously potent delicacy that is Pont l'Eveque." He pressed his paws together, sighing wistfully as he stared out into the night. "I wasn't myself then," he whined, throwing his paws out in front of him for added emphasis. "And I make _no_ sense when I'm hungry."

Adrien flashed a wry smile. "Don't you mean _starving_?"

Plagg shot his nose in the air. "The cheese is still digesting!" He scoffed. "Smart aleck."

Adrien rolled his eyes, chuckling.

"Seriously, though." Plagg hovered directly before his chosen. "I'm sure she's just _tired_ – like she said!"

Adrien smiled weakly, and stared out at the concrete jungle that bustled below, where small cars weaved through lamppost-lined streets, their headlights illuminating the many pedestrians that dotted the sidewalks like ants. "Yeah," he eventually breathed. "Maybe you're right, Plagg."

* * *

Ladybug zipped down the narrow stairwell, two shaky steps at a time. The safety barrier that surrounded her, a criss-cross of metal wires, rattled at her fingertips, and the metal stairs clanked beneath her every stride, ringing out into the Parisian night.

"I'm calm," she chanted like a mantra, one she'd started maybe three hundred steps ago. "I'm calm. I'm _calm_. I'm _completely_ calm. _Irrevocably_ calm. _Undeniably_ calm." Her tense body told another tale. "Like, if calm and composed could have a baby, I would _be_ that baby." She balled her fists out before her, holding her chin up high. "I've got this. _Yeah_."

A thousand steps later and she was convinced she'd thrown the last of her luck over the ledge along with her yoyo. The elevator at the summit of the tower was for private use. And now the public elevator that joined the two observation decks to the ground was, of course, out of order. While that meant the Eiffel Tower was quieter than normal for a Thursday night, it also meant she had to continue the rest of her trek by stairs.

So naturally, she was now stuck behind a very slow – and very curious – tour group. They kept stealing backward glances at her, before whispering in their neighbour's ear. Something about a "fake in a cheap costume", she thought one person had said.

Any other night – _literally any other_ – and she would've been all smiles and rainbows and unicorns.

Tonight?

Not a chance.

The only thing on her agenda right now was to get home _stat_. It was the only safe place for her imminent mental breakdown. And at this rate, she feared her frenzied thoughts would fire from her lips like a violent shockwave before she even reached the ground.

"Wow!" the tour guide – Francois, if she'd heard correctly – exclaimed with no preamble. "Look over there, folks!" He brandished a large hand, speckled with age-spots, at something past the wired barrier. "There goes one of Paris' superheroes, Chat Noir." The entire group skidded to an agonising halt, their gasps of awe and murmurs of excitement floating through the air. "We see him and the _real_ Ladybug almost every day. The Eiffel Tower seems to be a favourite patrol spot of theirs—no doubt because of the marvellous view!"

A groan squeezed up Ladybug's throat as she slapped her forehead, and proceeded to drag that same hand down her steadily flushing face.

"I am. Completely. _Calm_."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really hope you – yes, you specifically – enjoyed the first instalment of "You Times Two". If you did, please consider leaving a comment. Big or small, they make my day! Anywho, I hope you have a super purrfect rest of your day or night! :3


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Previously, on You Times Two... Ladybug learnt her kitty's secret identity, invented a new language, and threw her yoyo off the Eiffel Tower. Her word vomit reminded our dear, sweet Adrien of someone, but true to form, he just couldn't figure out who. Will LB find her yoyo? Will Golden Boy get a clue? Will a half-reveal make even a shred of difference? Or are these lovelorn dorks just beyond help at this point? Read on to find out!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just want to give everyone a massive THANK YOU for all the love the first chapter got! I never imagined it would be so well-received and I'm supurr-dupurr grateful! :3

Ladybug plopped onto her balcony, the planks squeaking beneath her feet. She latched her yoyo around her waist and stole a glance over the ledge, finding closed curtains and an empty street. No witnesses to her arrival.

At least _something_ was going right this evening.

In hindsight, finding her yoyo had by far been the easiest part of the night. She'd found it dangling from the roof of a horse-themed carousel, the ride glowing like a yellow beacon to anyone near the Eiffel Tower after dark. Thankfully, it'd been too high for just anyone to reach.

But with her super agility?

Not a problem.

Ladybug hurried to the skylight hatch, fixed into the balcony floor, only to squeak as she stubbed her toe on a potted plant, then stumbled over another. Both were new additions, and easily overlooked at the best of times. Tonight, they were basically two bullseyes for her unrivalled clumsiness.

"S-Sorry, Sunny," she stuttered, glancing at a single, yellow flower. She turned to a cluster of bright purple ones. "You – You too, Patty."

She yanked the hatch open and dropped onto her bed, the glass shuddering as the door thumped shut above her. A desk lamp cast its glow upon her lean frame, highlighting her silhouette as she stumbled down the ladder with about as much grace as a potato.

"Spots off…"

Those two words, usually full of quiet confidence, instead shook in tandem with the rest of her.

In a flash of pink, Marinette stood where Ladybug once had, and Tikki emerged at her side. Her powers might've just been the only reason her legs hadn't liquified sooner, for she instantly sunk to the wooden floor.

With a quiet gasp, Tikki swooped to her aid. "Marinette?" she said, waving a tiny hand over her chosen's vacant eyes. "Marinette, it's going to be okay!"

Marinette remained silent, save for the long, croaky groan that slipped through her lips.

A frown filled Tikki's face. Like magma below a dormant volcano, a whole chamber of thoughts bubbled and boiled beneath Marinette's skin, ready to explode. Whatever she was staring at, she wasn't truly seeing it.

Tikki had expected as much—and knew there was more to come.

"This whole time," Marinette eventually breathed, more to herself than her kwami. "Chat Noir… has been _Adrien_." The phrase squeezed through her lips, as though that fact hadn't quite rooted itself in her brain. "Adrien— _my_ Adrien."

No, he wasn't hers anymore.

In fact, he never _had_ been.

Her throat closed, throbbing and aching, as though an unseen hand had snaked itself around her neck and refused to let go.

"This," Marinette choked, "isn't a disaster." Tears blurred her bedroom, but refused to fall. "This… is the _apocalypse!_ " She flew to her feet, gripping her scalp as she started to pace. "Adrien is _Chat Noir_. He's _always_ been Chat Noir. He's been my partner… _this whole time_!" She gasped, the gravity of those words slowly sinking in. "Oh my _gosh_ , I've been rejecting Adrien… _for_ Adrien… _this whole time_!" Her eyes shot wider. "No, even _worse_ than that. I've been pushing Adrien away. I've been telling him I'm in love with _someone else_! And after being in love with me for _so long_ , he's actually given up and moved on – to Kagami!" She released her grip on her scalp to instead cover her face, hiding a wounded look. "How can I possibly face him, Tikki?"

Before the kwami had even opened her mouth, Marinette peeled her hands from her face to reveal an entirely new look; one that shined with purpose and promise. "Wait, how silly of me. I don't _have_ to face him. I can just start a new life!" She pressed her palms together, her face brightening. " _Yeah_. I'll sell my designs, save up some money, change my name to Bridgette and learn to juggle five – no, _six_ – pineapples." Her plan played out in her head like a filmstrip, foolproof. "Then I can join a travelling circus, leave this _whole_ mess behind me and—"

"Marinette," Tikki cried, flapping her hands out in front of the girl in question. "You're being silly! You can't—"

"You're right," said Marinette, a line etching between her brows. "I can't juggle to save my life—I'm _way_ too clumsy!" She launched a triumphant finger in the air. "I know! I'll grow a beard. I'll become Bridgette, The Bearded Lady – _yeah_ , that has a nice ring to it – and then the circus will _have_ to let me—"

" _Marinette_!" The weight of Tikki's tone had her screeching to a halt, her plans crashing around her. "Don't you think you're overreacting a little?"

"Tikki!" Marinette shrieked, worry clouding her features. "I'm _already_ a complete mess around Adrien – and now Chat Noir too. How am I supposed to save Paris like this?" She dragged herself to her desk and slumped into her hot pink revolving chair. "Not to mention he and Kagami are a thing now. And I've been hanging out with Luka—"

Luka…

An hour ago, the mere thought of the blue-haired boy sparked a light in her eyes, a rising joy in her chest, a fluttering in her stomach.

Now, her heart dropped like lead.

Maybe Master Fu had been wrong about her. She'd led Hawk Moth right _to_ him, and that failure was the only reason she'd become the Guardian. What if tonight was her second mistake? What if learning Chat Noir's identity had only made things worse?

For a fleeting moment, she realised Tikki had already known Chat Noir's identity. Throughout her decision-making process – in which she'd weighed the pros and cons of knowing Chat's identity to her little, red companion – Tikki had _known_ and hadn't _once_ nudged her one way or the other. If she’d thought this was a disaster waiting to happen, surely she would've said so. Did Tikki think she could handle this?

The pang in her chest faded, if only a little.

Yet, tears swelled behind her eyes, only kept at bay by a few well-timed blinks. "I thought," she murmured, her chin meeting her chest, "I'd finally accepted that Adrien would never be more than just a friend. I thought I was moving on, but"—her fists shook in her lap—"now that I _know_ we had a chance together, I… I don't know what to think…"

"Okay," Tikki said, rubbing her neck with a sheepish smile. "Maybe _overreacting_ was the wrong way to put it." She settled on the desk, its white paint stark against her crimson skin. "Yes, Adrien's the one who's been fighting by your side this whole time, but he's still the same Chat Noir he was before. The only difference now is that you _know_ who he is."

"That's exactly the problem, Tikki!" She slid a few inches down the back of her chair, its squeaks faint to her ears. "The fact that _Adrien_ is Chat Noir only makes things _worse_!"

Tikki tilted her head, seeking further elaboration.

With a sigh, Marinette straightened where she sat, rooting her feet firmly on the floor. "You remember Chat Blanc, don't you?" Her eyes sunk to her lap, where her thumbs circled each other in an endless loop. She lost herself in vile visions of crumbling statues, a world of rubble, and a pair of icy blue eyes—as chilling as an arctic blizzard.

Chat Blanc's words, dripping with malice, bounced about her brain like a razor-studded pinball. "Things were _purrfect_ until Hawk Moth found out about everything." She could still hear the soft clink of his claws as he’d crept along iron scraps of the Eiffel Tower, eyes peeled for his prey. "Once the cat is outta the bag, it's only a matter of time until _everyone_ knows. It was _our love_ that did this to the world, M'Lady!"

Marinette's eyes squeezed shut, willing away the living nightmare.

Such attempts were in vain.

Instead, she was clad in red and black latex, and Chat Blanc stood tall across an immense, iron beam. She was trapped and he knew it. He skulked closer, white light surging at his fingertips, his body framed by a city of ruins. "You know that by merging our Miraculous together we'd be granted one wish, right? Any wish we wanted." Desperation had clouded her vision, her eyes darting left, right, left again—searching for an escape and finding none. He'd drawn closer still, ready to destroy her with a single touch. "Well _my_ wish would be to _fix_ everything, so we could be _in love_ again…"

Again…

That single word screamed in Marinette's ears, refusing to be ignored.

"The simple truth is you don't _love_ me anymore," Chat Blanc had later cried, his voice thick with grief, "so I might as well destroy you, me, our memories… _everything_!"

That final word echoed through Marinette's mind, like she was hearing it again for the first time. Her hands curled into fists, trembling in her lap, colour draining from her knuckles. Even now, those tormented cries – _Adrien's_ _cries_ – rattled her to the core.

So lost.

So broken.

So devoid of hope.

How could she possibly risk putting him through that kind of pain again?

What if this time it was _her_ that became a brittle statue beneath a sea of ruins, turned to dust by the slightest touch?

Wiped from existence by a single mistake.

 _Her_ mistake.

A mounting weight clamped down on her chest and in that moment, she choked down a sob that threatened to spew forth. "Tikki, if _our love_ caused all of that…" Her lips curled and shook, a knot twisting her stomach. "If it brought about the end of the _world_ …" Finally, tears tumbled freely from her eyes, dotting her lap and dying her pants a darker shade of pink. She buried her head in her hands and sobbed, each one racking her shoulders. "I… I don't think I can _ever_ tell him who I am, Tikki. And I never thought it would hurt this much!"

Tikki's eyes creased. "Everything's going to work out, Marinette." She glided onto her shoulder and patted it lightly. "You just need to give yourself some time to let this all sink in, okay?"

"I… I know." Her words came out low and shaky. "Hawk Moth targets people who feel"—a sob shook her shoulders—"like there's no way to fix their problem." She sucked in a breath, only just stifling another sob, and released a wobbly sigh shortly after. "But what _can_ I do, Tikki? I'm just _so_ confused!"

“You'll figure things out, Marinette.” Tikki beamed at her. "You _always_ do."

* * *

For the rest of the night, she somehow kept the tears at bay. That might've been, in part, because her parents had soon returned from a date, raving about the delicious meals they'd just had and the quick, yet cheery service. Any other night, the hopeless romantic in her would've absorbed their every merry word. Tonight, however, while they'd distracted her a little, she'd still been so out of sorts they’d later popped their heads through her bedroom hatch, questions at the ready.

"Oh, I'm just _tired_ ," Marinette insisted, resorting to the same lame excuse she'd used on Chat. By this point, she wasn’t exactly lying. "Actually, I was just about to get ready for bed."

So she did.

And from one mundane task to the next, a new realisation would force its way into her racing mind.

"Oh my _gosh_ , Tikki!" she shrieked, a baby pink hairbrush clasped between her fingers. "I've kissed Adrien – twice!" Her hand flew to her lips, only for a pained grunt to leave them as her hairbrush greeted her face.

…

"No wonder," Marinette garbled through a mouthful of toothpaste, "Adwien shounded sho mush li' Chat in 'at movie." She spat into her bedroom sink and rinsed out her mouth. "He was voicing _himself_!" Her hand slapped her forehead. " _That's_ why he stuttered so much when I said he sounded almost exactly like the _real_ Chat Noir!"

…

A gasp escaped her lips as she hopped around the room, struggling to shove a leg through her pale pink pyjama pants. "Oh man, Tikki!" She stumbled into the nearest wall, grunting from the pain. "Remember that time Adrien said _what a knightmare_? That's _totally_ something Chat Noir would say." She thumped her head against the wall she'd just greeted. " _Duh_! It was _so obvious_!"

…

"Tomorrow's Friday!" Marinette shrieked, clambering into bed. "You know what _that_ means? A _joint_ patrol! With _Adrien_!" She dragged her hands down her face. " _Disaster_!"

…

Marinette burst upright in bed, her blankets hugging her lean frame. "The day _after_ tomorrow is _Saturday_." She turned to Tikki. "And isn't Alya having people over for video games – _including_ _Adrien_?" She placed a finger to her lips, considering the situation for a moment longer. "Nahhh. I doubt his dad will let him come." She almost hoped for that very scenario, and that made her feel terrible.

…

The lights were off and yet, as she'd expected, her mind was still reeling from the evening's events. "Hold up," she called into the dark, hearing Tikki straighten on the pillow beside her. "The day after Saturday is _Sunday_. And I'm meant to go to the movies – with _Luka_!" Her brain was a scrambled mess, bouncing between two modes – repressed tears and unholy screeching. "How am I supposed to hang out with _Luka_ when all I can think about right now is _Adrien_?" She chewed at her lower lip. "That doesn't seem very fair on Luka, does it?"

"Marinette," Tikki yawned, "it's very late."

Marinette squinted into the darkness, faintly making out her kwami's tiny silhouette. She looked to be rubbing her eyes.

"I'm sure," Tikki murmured, "you'll think up a solution once you've had a good night's rest. Being tired never helps an anxious mind."

Marinette sighed. "You're probably right." She fluffed up Tikki's pillow, then her own, and slumped against it. "Good night, Tikki."

"Sweet dreams, Marinette."

* * *

A ghostly voice sang out her name.

Her eyes eased open.

Moonlight flooded through the skylight hatch above, fixing on her like a spotlight.

"Marineeette," the intruder sang again.

She shot straight in bed, hairs prickling on her neck. Her eyes darted every which way, as she peered over her blanket, out into the darkness that shrouded the space beyond her bed.

Her name came again, this time as a feral hiss.

Marinette's stomach coiled. Her muscles ached, adrenaline rushing through her veins, preparing her for the worst.

A black paw slithered out from the shadows, its claws clutching the foot of the bed frame. "There you are!" Another paw followed, tearing the end of her bedspread, and two cat-like eyes emerged, glowing green, framed by a mask as dark as the room around it. An eerie grin stretched his lips far wider than humanly possible. "Do you wanna know my secret, Marinette?" snarled Chat Noir, twitching and jerking as he dragged himself toward her like a possessed China doll, "I'm in love with a girl and her name is _Kagami_!"

Marinette jolted awake, a screech hurdling from her throat. Her eyes dashed around a room that this time, she saw quite clearly despite the dark.

In an instant, Tikki was hovering straight ahead. "Marinette," she cried, alarm riddled through every syllable. "What's wrong? Is everything okay?!"

"No! I mean, _yes_. I mean—" Marinette forced a smile and scooped her kwami up in her palms. "It – It was just a bad dream," she insisted, and pecked Tikki's tiny cheek. "Nothing to worry about."

Even in the low light, she could see that Tikki wasn't buying it. "But your hands… They're _shaking_!"

Marinette drew her kwami close, nuzzling her briefly. "I know you're worried, but trust me… I'll be _fine_." She ignored the pointed look Tikki gave as she placed the little kwami on the pillow beside her. "It's like you said." She yawned, slumping into her pillow. "I'll figure this out."

She _had_ to.

Her eyes slid shut, but she hardly managed one more wink of sleep after that.

* * *

The morning sun soaked Marinette with its warmth, its rays spilling over the rooftop of Collège Françoise Dupont. Her eyes – brimming with focus – darted right, left and right again, as she tiptoed up the school steps.

These last twelve hours, her brain had been torturing her. And naturally, it had chosen _now_ of all times to remind her of the day a film crew had broadcasted her bedroom – more specifically, her bedroom _walls_ – for all of France to see.

For _Adrien_ to see.

Pink grazed her cheeks.

The morning after, she'd failed to enter school undetected.

This time would be different.

Today, she was the epitome of stealth.

And failing that, she was _also_ late—on purpose, for once.

After all, it's not like Adrien could strike up a conversation with her if she was late, ergo she'd have no chance to rouse suspicion with her word vomit. This time, her plan was foolproof. She was _sure_ of it.

The familiar ring of a bell echoed out into the street, where morning traffic rumbled. She heard a groan from the hefty, oak doors at the top of the stairs.

"Wait!" Marinette called, stumbling up the steps. "Wait! I'm almost there!" She squeezed through the doors just in time, seeing the school groundsman step back with wide eyes. "Made it," she breathed, gripping her knees with a sigh of relief.

A couple of doors on the second story clicked shut. Students had already flowed into their respective classrooms, leaving the courtyard empty. There'd been no akuma attacks this morning either, so Adrien had no reason to be late.

"Perfect."

Determination filled her face as she threw herself against the nearest wall. She slunk around the edge of the courtyard, over to the locker room swing doors, remaining unseen. That is, if you didn't count the school groundsman, who watched on with a quirk of his brow and a tilt of his balding head.

Other than that, she was practically invisible.

With a triumphant grin, Marinette shoved the swing doors aside, expecting rows of lockers to fill her vision.

Instead, she was greeted by a grunt and a pair of familiar green eyes.

She'd shoved the doors, all right.

Straight into Adrien's face.

Straight into _Chat Noir's_ face.

The universe hated her. True or false?

Horror tainted her features, putting his pained expression to shame. "Kill me," she muttered, watching as he gingerly rubbed his nose, blinking incessantly.

Adrien looked up at her. "Hm? What was that?"

Marinette went rigid, clinging to the straps of her backpack. "Uhh! I said _excuse me_! No— _sorry_!" She shifted from one foot to the other and back again, avoiding his gaze. "Yeah! Sorry! That's what I vent— _meant_!"

"Don't worry, Marinette." He showed a small smile as he placed a hand on her shoulder, his ring in full view. Her insides flipped at the sight of it. "Trust me, I've been through worse."

Had he said that twelve hours ago, she would've been intrigued. Now, she knew exactly what he meant. If there was one guy in Paris who could take a beating, it was Chat Noir.

Her fingers toyed with the bottom of her black cardigan, the events of last night replaying in her mind like a humiliating home video. "I'm so clorry—err, _clumsy_. And _sorry_. I'm _so_ sorry!" She spared a moment to inspect his face; it looked as flawless as ever, but she still had to ask, "Are you gay—" She zapped upright. " _Okay_!" she screamed, "I meant _okay_! Are you _okay_? Uhh – Not that there's anything _wrong_ with being gay. I'd still love – I mean, _like you_ – just the gay— _way_ you are!" Her face must've looked like a stop sign by now. "Not – Not that I think you _are_ gay. I mean, there's salami—pastrami— _Kagami_!"

Marinette's stomach soured at the reminder of the girl who held his affections. She could just _feel_ a frown emerging as she tugged her backpack closer, itching to dump its contents into her locker.

Adrien tilted his head, confusion swirling in his stare. Only then did she realise his eyebags, dark and puffy, might've just rivalled her own.

Guilt hissed accusations in her ear.

She was the one responsible for them.

She just _knew_ it.

"I'm… I'm okay, Marinette," Adrien stammered, lurching her back to reality. He scratched his cheek, his eyes drifting to the ceiling. "I'm just, uhh…" When he looked back at her, he smiled, though she didn't miss it falter. "I didn't sleep too well, but that's not _your_ fault."

"Yeahhh," she drawled, "I mean _no_! No, it's not." She turned away to slap herself, hoping it'd help her to regain some sense—emphasis on _some_.

"Hey," Adrien said, his tone much lighter.

Marinette stood stiff as a plank as she re-faced him, at first thinking he planned to call her out for slapping herself. His smile said otherwise.

"I know I've said this before," he continued, that soft smile growing, "but your hair still looks really pretty when it's down."

"Wait, _what_?" She reached for her pigtails and instead found loose strands. Oh great. Not only had she forgotten to style her hair this morning. She'd forgotten to even _brush_ it. If she'd looked like a stop sign before, she must've looked like a dang fire truck by now.

Marinette rushed her fingers through her hair, wishing she could jam her head in the nearest locker. "Oh, I… uhh… slept in." She smoothed her hands over her scalp. "I – uhh – _yeah_. I actually had a bad sleep too! I must've – erm – forgotten to brush—I mean, _tie up_ my hair. Y'know… from the no-sleep." She giggled, peering up at him from through her dark fringe.

Adrien laughed into his hand. It was reserved, refined, careful—nothing like the snickers, smirks and guffaws of his alter ego. "Well," he said, bringing a hand to his bangs, "how about we match?" He ruffled his hair, flashed a grin, and suddenly, all she saw was Chat Noir.

Somehow, it put her at ease… if only for a second.

She smiled—small, but genuine. "I've… never seen your hair like that." It wasn't a _total_ lie. "It suits you, Adrien."

For some reason, that comment had him glowing. "You really think so?" His grin only grew and, in that moment, ladybugs fluttered in her chest. "Thank you, Marinette!"

"No problem, Chadrien."

Marinette froze.

" _Adrien_ ," she screeched, stooping her head low in apology. "That's what I meant! Not – uhh – that other thing." A nervous giggle escaped her as she glanced over his shoulder, where her locker awaited her. "Boy, am I _tired_ , huh? 'Cause I have absolutely _no idea_ where that came from!" His lips parted, but her gasp cut him off. "Oh no!" she cried, clasping her hair. "The well—shell— _bell_ rung, like, five minutes ago!"

There was a spark of realisation in Adrien's eyes. "Oh," he faltered, glancing at the exit over her shoulders. "Well, how about I wait for you outside?" His smile was softer again. "It's probably better to interrupt class once rather than twice, right?"

Marinette stilled, taking in his smile. She could already hear the onslaught of questions Alya would send her way if they arrived to class together— _late_. "Oh, no no no _no_!" she said, waving her hands like a maniac. "I mean, you… you don't _have_ to." She gave a quiet giggle. "You grow—err, _go_ first. I don't mind being the one to interrupt the second time."

"Please." Adrien held up his own hand far more gracefully. "I insist."

Fighting back a grimace, Marinette nodded stiffly, as though the motion pained her. Not far off, if she was honest. "I'll smell—err, _see_ you outside then." She stepped to her left, but he stepped the same way.

"Sorry," they said in unison.

Marinette dipped her head, pink pinching her cheeks, and lumbered around him to her locker. The doors swung shut behind her, announcing that she was alone.

Immediately, she smacked her head against her locker, over and over, like a broken record. Maybe she'd finally – _literally_ – knock some sense into herself.

She'd probably be here a while.

"Well," Tikki said, peeking up from Marinette's pink side bag, "that could've been worse."

Marinette stopped to glance down at her kwami and the strained smile she wore. That smile said the one thing Tikki didn't: it could've gone a lot _better_ too.

"I knew the first half of our conversation was going suspiciously well," Marinette muttered, pouting.

Tikki arched a brow. "You think it went _well_?" She went taut at the mortified look her owner sent her. "I mean, _yeah_ – it went _so_ well!"

Marinette threw her head back and let out a throaty groan.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hopefully the references I made to Sandboy and Chat Blanc in this chapter didn't make me seem like a… copycat (shameless reference intended). Let's just say they're both things I really wanted to highlight for, uhh... reasons. ;)


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Previously, on You Times Two… Marinette considered growing a magnificent beard and running away to join the circus. She reflected on the ramifications of Chat Blanc, which honestly, the author is still too upset about to make light of right now. And just to top it all off, Clumsy Girl smacked Golden Boy in the face with a door, then somehow called him Chadrien. Has our favourite gal’s cover been blown? Has her kitty quite literally had some sense smacked into him? And purrhaps most importantly, is his lil’ button nose okay? You can probably hazard a guess, but read on, I say!

Adrien left Marinette in the locker room and stepped out into the morning sun, its warmth bathing his skin.

But the heat of his cheeks had a different source.

As he twisted his ring – something he often did when his brain was abuzz – he glimpsed his reflection in a tinted window, a reminder that his hair was still a bit of mess. He reached for his bangs, his thoughts drifting a minute into the past.

There'd been a light in Marinette's eyes, and a sense of ease about her, when he'd ruffled his hair.

Of course, that had only lasted a second.

And then, like Ladybug, she'd called him Chadrien.

That _had_ to be a coincidence.

Ladybug had fumbled over her words last night, as Marinette often did.

Marinette's eyes were like the sky after a storm, a stunning shade of bluebell, just like Ladybug's. How had he not noticed that before?

His hand fell from his hair to his side, as his lips drew into a resolute line.

No, his suspicions were impossible.

Marinette was Multimouse.

She _couldn't_ be Ladybug too.

His eyes sunk to his shoes as he continued to think of his lady. The reality was, she _wasn't_ his lady. She never _had_ been.

There was a thickness in his throat and a void in his eyes as he wondered—again—if things might've been different, if not for that boy. She'd said she couldn't even imagine a world without him, whoever _he_ was.

And that hurt.

A lot.

To an extent, it had depleted his hope of something ever blooming between them. But more than that, it always made him wonder if she could say the same for him. Could she imagine a world without Chat Noir?

Truly, Adrien didn't know the answer.

His fingernails dug into the flesh of his palms.

This shouldn't matter anymore.

He was dating Kagami.

Well, sort of.

The press had snapped them eating ice cream together. And yes, they'd almost kissed—but they hadn't made things official, despite what the media were saying.

Regardless, everyone thought they _were_ official—including Kagami.

He _hated_ this.

Not because Kagami was basically his girlfriend, but because he'd never imagined this unravelling quite as it had.

He'd imagined a rose-covered rooftop and a candlelit dinner. He'd imagined a passionate declaration and actually _asking_ the girl to be his girlfriend. He'd imagined a night ending in a flurry of hugs and kisses and laughter.

And he'd imagined it all with Ladybug.

He buried his face in his palms, where the dent of his nails still showed.

This wasn't fair on Kagami.

But Ladybug didn't love him back. She never would.

And despite the way he felt about her, to say he didn't care for Kagami was a lie.

Kagami had always been upfront with him. Maybe that's why he'd been so drawn to her. She was assertive, strong-minded and knew exactly what she wanted.

 _A lot like Ladybug,_ a part of him whispered.

A very annoying part.

With a huff, Adrien pinched the bridge of his nose. It was still tender from its encounter with a door and for some reason, that made him smile.

Plagg peeked up at him from beneath his white overshirt. "So why'd you have to come out here to wait for your friend?"

Adrien tensed. "Plagg," he whispered, his eyes snapping around the school courtyard, finding it empty. " _Hide_ before someone sees you." He tugged the edge of his white shirt over his kwami's head.

Of course, Plagg squeezed his way back out despite his chosen's protests. "People are _blind_ ," he whined. "Not to mention I blend in with your shirt."

Adrien heaved a sigh, yielding to Plagg's question. "I just have a lot on my mind. That's all."

"Like what, _hmm_?"

"Since when do you care about something that isn't cheese-related?" He was half-joking.

"Oh please," Plagg barked. "I just wanna know what's got you in such a tizz."

Adrien glowered at that and glanced over his shoulder, half-expecting Marinette to barge out of the locker room right that second. When she didn't, he looked down at Plagg. "Marinette: _that's_ who Ladybug reminded me of last night."

Plagg groaned in time with an eye roll. "So _what_? Marinette's _always_ talking nonsense. Ladybug did for one measly night!"

"But, Plagg," Adrien said, desperation seeping through his words, "this isn't the _first_ time I've suspected she was Ladybug!"

"Have you forgotten about Kwamibuster?" Plagg grimaced. "She was Multimouse. We even _saw_ her and Ladybug side-by-side."

A thought flashed in Adrien's eyes. "Miracle Queen," he announced, and Plagg tipped his head. "Why didn't she show up to collect the Mouse Miraculous?" He cupped his chin, glancing toward the morning sky. "Every other Miraculous Wielder did."

"She isn't a Miraculous Wielder anymore," Plagg said simply. "Ladybug told her as much after she revealed her identity to you. Or maybe she just didn't get stung by those nasty bugs."

His hopes were crushed as quickly as they'd come, and he realised how much he'd been hoping to begin with. Did he _want_ Marinette to be Ladybug? Was _that_ why he kept searching for reasons to suspect her?

He pursed his lips, wrestling with these ruminations and the risks that came with them. His suspicions were circumstantial, if that. And if he ever learned Ladybug's identity, it should be on _her_ terms.

Still, he couldn't help but wonder…

"I… guess you're right, Plagg." The disappointment in his voice was thicker than glue.

"Of course, I'm right!"

Adrien tapped his lips, eyes drifting skyward once more. "And Ladybug _did_ say we don't know each other out of costume." Though she'd also said she wouldn't tell him if they _did_. "You _know_ who Ladybug is, right? From when we faced Mr Damo—The Dark Owl."

"If you're suggesting what I _think_ you are—"

Adrien shook his head. "You know I'd never betray Ladybug's trust like that."

"Good," Plagg said, throwing his whiskers in the air, "because I couldn't tell you who she is even if I wanted to. Tikki would kill me." His paw emerged from beneath Adrien's white shirt, and he placed a thoughtful claw to his lips. "As for Ladybug's stuttering last night, maybe your identity just… took her off guard? For all you know, she was _starstruck_! Like that time you took me to the Aligre Market." His green eyes glided upward, glazing over, and he let out a dreamy sigh. "So… much… artisan cheese…"

Adrien gaped—and it took him at least five seconds to form words. "You… You think Ladybug could be a _fan_ of mine?"

"It makes a lot more sense than _your_ stupid theory."

Adrien had never even considered that possibility, but Plagg was right. It _did_ make sense. Maybe _that's_ why she'd freaked out.

"But," Plagg continued, "how should _I_ know if she's a fan of yours? Just ask her at patrol tonight."

Adrien's chest tightened as he pictured that very scenario. "But what if she _is_ a fan and freaks out again like last time?" Worry weighed on his lips. "Or what if she's _not_ and thinks I'm arrogant and—"

The thump of a hand against wood made him jump, and Plagg vanished beneath his shirt.

"Sorry I took so long!"

He turned to find Marinette, her hair a little more frazzled. Her eyes snapped around the courtyard, not meeting his.

Oh no! Had she heard him talking?

Adrien threaded his fingers, his thumbs circling each other. "No – No problem." He swallowed and forced a small smile. "I was just – uhh…"

"Don't worry," Marinette chimed, finally looking his way. Her eyes creased as she smiled. "I stalk—uhh, _talk_ to myself too. _All_ the time. I mean – uhh – _some_ of the time." She cleared her throat. "So I – uhh – guess we're both nosy—I mean _crazy_."

"Oh, I…" Adrien broke eye contact, glancing between her and the ground. "What did you hear?"

"N-Nothing!" Marinette shrieked, waving her hands back and forth. "Just – uh – mumbling and stuff." She looked away, her fingers drumming against the straps of her backpack. "So, umm…" She nodded towards the nearby stairs. "Class, then?"

Adrien forced a chuckle, only for his voice to crack. And now they were both blushing. "Ri-Right." He squeezed the strap of his shoulder bag with one hand and extended his other toward the stairs. "After you, then."

Marinette took a single step forward and, true to form, somehow tripped over air.

Adrien's hands were on her shoulders in an instant, barring her greeting with the ground. "Are you okay?"

"No—I mean _yes_!" She peeled his hands from her shoulders and practically jumped back to her full height. "I'm just – uhh – clumsy. Ha _ha_. I am _so_ clumsy." She flashed an oddly wide grin, her hands flying this way and that as she spoke. "Like, the _Queen_ of Clumsy. _Any_ physical activity whatsoever and I am _not_ your girl. Not by a mile. Heck, I couldn't even _run_ a mile. Because, y'know – I'm so unfit. And clumsy. Did I mention I'm clumsy?" The second she finished her spiel, her eyes shot to her ballerina flats.

Adrien managed a laugh, despite how his brows squished together. "Uhh… Yes, you did mention that." His brows settled, but he continued to smile. "And Marinette, you're not as clumsy as you think you are."

Marinette wiped her palms across her pants. "I'm… I'm _not_?" she squeaked, peering up at him.

"Well, I've experienced your dancing first-hand, remember?" Adrien slid an arm around her shoulders, showing a supportive smile. "And let's not forget your fencing and ice-skating skills. Try not to sell yourself short, okay?" His arm slipped from her shoulders to rub the nape of his neck, and he laughed lightly. "But maybe _do_ try to be more careful sometimes."

She stared at him with wide eyes. "Uh – Um – _Yeah_. I'll… try to be more careful."

With that, Adrien extended his hand toward the stairs. "Shall we?"

* * *

She'd eavesdropped on Adrien and Plagg – but not on purpose!

In fact, she'd been about to shove those pesky doors aside when her name – or rather, Ladybug's name – had given her pause.

She'd only caught bits and pieces, but by the sound of it, Adrien suspected she was Ladybug. And in that moment, Chat Blanc's petrifying face had flashed through her mind. That was all the incentive she'd needed to throw him off her tracks, by deliberately tripping over air and pointing out her _lack_ of physical prowess.

He couldn't know she was Ladybug.

Not yet.

Perhaps not _ever_.

Marinette quite literally shook that thought to the outskirts of her mind. Now, around Adrien, was _not_ the time and place for it.

Instead, she panted excessively as they scaled the stairs, hoping he'd bought her 'I'm so clumsy and unfit' charade—if she could even call it that. She wasn't unfit, but she _was_ a royal clutz, even if Adrien didn't think so.

When they reached the top of the stairs, Marinette's mind wandered elsewhere. She wasn't late thanks to an akuma, so her secret identity wasn't at risk. Did she even _need_ to make up an excuse?

She could just say she'd slept in.

In fact, that's _exactly_ what she'd done.

On purpose.

To avoid the very boy she was arriving late with.

A groan slipped through her lips—and of course, Adrien heard it.

"Everything okay, Marinette? You _sure_ you're not hurt?"

"Err – Yeah! I'm – I'm fine." Her eyes flew this way and that, as she considered an excuse. "I was just… uh…"

Adrien's eyes were fixed on her and once more, she took in his mussed hair… so reminiscent of Chat Noir.

"I was just wondering what to say to Miss Bustier?"

Adrien smiled, his bangs bobbing with each step he took. "You mean, how do we explain our lateness?" He adjusted the strap of his bag, his ring in full view. "We don't. In my experience, Miss Bustier is fine as long as you apologise and don't disrupt the lesson beyond that. It's Ms Mendeleiev that's a little trickier to deal with."

"Tell me about it," Marinette muttered, only to gasp and go tense. "I mean, uhh… _Yeah_ , I've been crate— _late_ to her class a few times. It's _never_ easy."

They stopped outside their classroom door, Adrien's hand returning to her shoulder. He leaned in close and this time, her unfit charade wasn't the reason her breath hitched.

"Just follow my lead, okay?"

Marinette nodded, unable to hide a slight smile at the irony. Usually, it was _him_ that followed _her_ lead. He just didn't know it.

Adrien offered her an encouraging smile, then eased the classroom door aside. Miss Bustier was seated at her desk, her eyes on them and her hands hovering over the keys on her laptop. Their classmates looked up from their tablets, their eyes flicking between Marinette and Adrien.

Adrien entered first. "Sorry we're late, Miss Bustier." He held the door open and snuck Marinette a supportive wink that made her cheeks burn.

This time, Marinette's stumble was unintentional as she stepped inside, feeling all eyes on her. She didn't know what was worse: the way Chloe and Lila glared daggers at her or the bug-eyed look on Alya's face.

Behind her, Adrien clicked the door shut, and she cleared her throat. "Uhh. Y-Yeah!" Her face scrunched in apology. "Sorry, Miss Bustier"—she itched her cheek—"for interrupting the lesson."

Miss Bustier nodded, showing a gracious smile. "Please take your seats and pull out your tablets. We're starting a pop quiz in a couple of minutes."

Adrien and Marinette nodded in sync, and he gracefully claimed his seat.

Her?

She tripped on the first step, greeted the second with her shin, and crawled the rest of the way. Once she was in her seat, her panic-struck eyes shot to Miss Bustier, only to be met by a knowing smile.

A sigh of relief slipped from Marinette's lips as she placed her backpack on her desk.

That relief was short-lived.

Alya leaned into her personal bubble, rocking a smirk. " _Girl_ ," she whispered, her eyes narrow with amusement. "Start. Talking."

Marinette played dumb. "About what?" she whispered back, hunched behind her backpack to avoid Miss Bustier's stare.

Alya rolled her eyes. "Seriously? You and Adrien just showed up to class together. Late. With super messy hair." She raised a brow. "There's _gotta_ be a story there!"

"There's no story, Alya," she said through a sigh.

"Oh, come on." Alya eyed her from behind her tablet, her smirk growing. "Did you two _finally_ make out in the utility closet?"

"ALYA!" Marinette screeched, somehow knocking her bag over the back of her desk. It brushed Adrien's back as it descended toward the wooden floor, meeting it with a dull thud.

"Marinette," said Miss Bustier, looking up from her laptop to send her a stern look, "if you arrive late, I expect you to do it discreetly."

She stooped her head low. "Sorry, Miss Bustier!"

Adrien turned in his chair - his tablet already laid out on his desk - and with a sympathetic smile, he heaved her bag off the floor. She nodded her thanks as he placed it on the desk. Only when he turned back to his tablet did she shoot Alya a glare.

"We both just happened to be late," she quietly growled, "and I kinda forgot to brush my hair, so Adrien messed his up to make me feel better. And to save us interrupting class _twice_ , we decided to show up together." The slightest smirk Alya still showed only had her eyes rolling. "Need I remind you he's dating Kagami?"

 _That_ swept the smugness from her face. "All riiiight, I believe you." She watched, her eyes squinting in thought, as Marinette pulled her tablet from her backpack. "But hey, speaking of dating… How're things going with Luka?" Of course, her teasing smile returned; it never _did_ seem to be gone for long. "Maybe it's _him_ you're smooching in a closet, _hmm_?"

Thoughts of last night swarmed to the forefront of Marinette's mind, and her stomach churned at the reminder of Luka. "I… _No_! We're just hanging out." She set her backpack on the floor and turned back to her tablet, bringing up their pop quiz with a shaky finger.

Alya turned to her own tablet. "So, does that mean you guys haven't kissed yet?"

Marinette's cheeks flushed pink and she shook her head excessively. "Don't you think I'd _tell_ you if we had?"

Alya lightly elbowed Marinette's side. "When it comes to _you_ , girl, I _never_ know what to think."

Briefly, she chewed on the inside of her cheek. “Okay. Fair point, but trust me, Alya, if I _ever_ get a boyfriend, you'll be the _first_ to know."

* * *

Usually, sitting behind Adrien was a blessing.

Today, it was a curse.

No matter how hard she tried, Marinette's eyes kept drifting to the boy ahead of her. She studied the curve of his broad shoulders, recalling all the times she'd seen them wrapped in leather. She strained her ears each time he spoke and now it was impossible to _unhear_ her partner. And during last period, when Alya struck up a conversation with him, she caught her eyes travelling the defined arc of his jaw.

Now that she knew he was Chat Noir, she just _couldn't_ unsee it.

"So, Adrien," Alya was saying, leaning over her desk. "You gonna come play Ultimate Mecha Strike III tomorrow?" She glanced between the two boys ahead. "I might also pull out Just Dance if I'm feeling a little bit groovy," she added, shimmying in her seat.

"Yeah, Alya!" Adrien said, his face alight. "I'll _definitely_ be there this time!"

Marinette bolted upright in her seat, horror flashing across her face.

"Good to hear," Alya said beside her.

"Yeah! Would you believe my father said _yes_ for a change?" Adrien tapped his lips, his eyes wandering up to the ceiling. "He's been in a pretty good mood lately… I _think_." He looked back at Alya, smiling. "Kagami's excited too. And maybe a bit nervous. She hasn't really hung out with more than a couple of friends at a time."

A splash of pity washed over Marinette. It'd been a while since her last orange juice outing with Kagami and she knew those meet-ups meant a lot to her. For a moment, she considered arranging another one.

That thought was quickly crushed by the glaring reminder that sat before her - otherwise known as Adrien Agreste.

Chat Noir.

Kagami's boyfriend.

She pulled her arms across her torso, her eyes sinking to the dented surface of her desk. She was almost certain a catch up with Kagami would end tragically. Heck, it would probably _start_ tragically too—at least while her knowledge of Chat's identity was still fresh.

Adrien and Kagami's relationship had been – _still was_ – extremely hard to swallow. Knowing Kagami's boyfriend was also Chat Noir somehow seemed to make things more complicated. And now that she thought about it, it was no wonder Chat had flirted with Ryuko last week, during their brief fight with Loveater.

Marinette had a feeling she'd continue to be struck by realisations like this for _at least_ a few weeks. Understandable, considering she's been unknowingly crushing on her superhero partner _this whole time_. She barely bit back a groan at that lovely reminder. It sounded like the punchline of a _very_ bad joke. Or maybe _she_ was the punchline?

"I'm excited for Kagami to be a bigger part of our friend group," Alya was saying, a teasing lilt in her voice as she continued. "Especially now that you two are an item." She elbowed Marinette, prompting a wince. "Isn't that _right_ , girl?"

Rubbing her aching side, Marinette grinned a little too widely at the boys seated below her. At any other time, the red that crept across Adrien's cheeks would've been adorable. Now, it twisted her heart.

"I – Uhh. _Yeah_." She hoped her smile seemed genuine, at least to Adrien. "I can – I mean, I _can't_ wait!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had SO much fun writing this chapter – especially Mari’s eccentricities. That girl kills me, I swear. Thanks for reading and have a wonderful rest of your day!


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Previously, on You Times Two… To the dismay of everyone here, Mari’s Multimouse shenanigans mostly fooled our precious bean. But praise be, at least he and Kagami aren’t official. Not to him. Not yet. After a cheeky eavesdrop on our two favourite kitties, Clumsy Girl fears Sunshine Boy’s onto her. And of course, of all the times Papagreste could let his son have a social life, he does so in the midst of our girl’s existential crisis. Will Hotstuff stay single? And will Marimoo do something silly with her newfound suspicions? Read forth to find out!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoy this chapter! It's basically just 4.2k words of Adrienette. AWW YEEEAH! ;D

Marinette collapsed into her hot pink office chair, heaving a sigh. "What a day, Tikki." Using her feet, she launched herself toward her desk, the wheels of her chair whirring on the wooden floor. "Maybe I really _wasn't_ exaggerating when I called this the apocalypse." She slammed her head against the desk, a stray pencil wobbling near her ear.

"Don't be silly, Marinette," said Tikki, hovering over her shoulder. "You've been through trickier situations than _this_ before."

Marinette held up a finger. "I called him _Chadrien_ ," she garbled, her cheek squished against the desk. "As Marinette _and_ Ladybug."

"Well," Tikki drawled, "things could always be worse."

Marinette groaned, peeling her cheek from the white wood. "But you heard him, Tikki. He suspects _I'm_ Ladybug." She buried her face in her hands, peeking through her fingers to pout at her kwami. "I can't risk him knowing who I am before I even know if he _should_!"

Tikki tilted her head. "So, what are you going to do?"

Marinette's hands dropped from her face to reveal hardened eyes, now shining with purpose. "I'm going to keep our interactions to a minimum," she said, slicing a decisive hand through the air.

Tikki blinked at her owner like she'd sprouted antennae. "How do you plan to do _that_? You see him every day at school. He sits in front of you in class. He'll be at Alya's tomorrow. And let's not forget, he's Chat Noir!"

Marinette giggled. "I don't plan to avoid him as Chat Noir, silly. I know _that's_ impossible." Her eyes wandered toward the ceiling as she placed a pensive finger to her lips. "But avoiding Adrien… surely I can manage _that_ for a while?"

A smirk crept across Tikki's lips. "How long is a while?"

"Tikki!" Marinette cried, snorting back laughter as she tickled her kwami's belly. "Not for two seconds, if that's what you're thinking." Laughter continued to line her words. "Just until this whole _Marinette might be Ladybug_ thing blows over, however long that is." She pushed off the desk and slumped into her chair, lips pursed. "Maybe I need to throw him a bone? Or should I say _catnip_?"

Expecting her kwami to giggle, she was surprised to instead find a worried frown on Tikki's face.

"You know, Marinette, I don't think avoiding Adrien will be as easy as you think."

Marinette slapped the air with a dismissive hand. "Come on, Tikki. How hard can it be to avoid the busiest boy in school?"

Three knocks bounced off the hatch in her floor. "Marinette?"

The girl in question nearly fell off her chair.

"It's Adrien." His voice was muffled through the wood. "Are you in there?"

Marinette flew from the chair so fast she sent it spinning. " _Adrien_ ," she squeaked, arms whipping in front of her as if to shield herself from an incoming train. "What are you – Uhh – _Hi_! I mean, _what_?" She slapped her forehead. "I mean, err… just a sec!" She pried her side bag open, watched as Tikki zipped inside it, and snapped it shut in an instant. Her steps were fast and heavy as she hurried to the hatch, almost tripping on the edge of a round rug.

Lurching the hatch in the floor aside, she found a pair of green eyes smiling up at her. "Hey Marinette!" He briefly let go of the stair railing to wave at her, drawing attention to a paper bag that crumpled as it swayed from his left arm. She glimpsed a golden emblem upon it and knew it was from the Dupain-Cheng Bakery.

He looked uncomfortable, hunched on the stairs to her room and unable to reach his full height. And yet he continued to smile as she gaped like a weirdo.

Finally, a giggle hiccupped in her throat. "Adrien, _hi_." She mirrored his wave with a little too much vigour. "Fancy seeing _you_ here. In my house. As opposed to, uhh… school."

Adrien peered up at her from through his bangs, which remained a ruffled mess from this morning.

To her, they were like a giant neon sign on his head that read "I AM CHAT NOIR".

The sight of them had eased her a few times today.

Now, not so much.

"Sorry…" He rubbed at his neck, his cheery smile shrivelling into something more reserved. "I'm not interrupting anything, am I?" His eyes travelled over her shoulder, as though searching for someone. "I thought I heard talking and I—"

"Talking? Like, with another person?" Marinette shot ramrod straight. "What? Notally! I mean _totally_. I mean _no_ , you totally weren't hearing that. I was just, uhh…" She managed her best take on Tikki's high-pitched voice, and sounded more like a pre-schooler with a really bad cough. "I was just talking… to… _myself_." She quickly gave up on her imitation of Tikki. It was already itching her throat, not to mention Adrien was blinking at her as though she had three eyes. "Yeah, so I was just… conversing… with myself. Y'know, like I said I do this morning. _Some_ of the time. Not, y'know… _all_ the time."

"Uhh… Okay then?" Adrien showed a smile, despite the confusion that riddled every inch of his face. "Well, in that case, I—"

"Oh, how silly of me!" Marinette held a hand out to him. "Come on up!"

His eyes twinkled, first at her and then at her hand, which he reached for willingly.

But something caught her eye.

And surprisingly, that thing wasn't the many photos of Adrien that had once littered her walls. She'd taken _those_ down a few weeks ago, save for a couple on the corkboard above her bed, which were spritzed amid pictures of her other friends.

Ahead of her sat the trunk that housed Adrien's birthday presents (now for the next forty-eight years). And upon that trunk was Master Fu's phonograph.

Terror tainted her face. What if he recognised it?

Before he could accept her hand, she slapped it to her chest. "Actually, _no_. My room's a mess. It's _super_ embarrassing." She ducked through the hatch and gripped his shoulders, coaxing him down the stairs. "Let's talk somewhere tidier."

Wait.

Had Adrien even _been_ to Master Fu's?

She didn't think so.

Marinette ripped her hands from his shoulders, instead grabbing his wrist. "I mean, uhh. It's not _that_ messy. Come on up." She took two steps toward her room, before screeching to a halt.

What if he _had_ been to Master Fu's and she just didn't know?

"That'd be a disaster," she breathed.

"Sorry, I didn't quite catch that?"

She bolted upright. "Uhh… My room. It's a total disaster. Let's talk downstairs!" Her hand remained around his wrist and before he could even open his mouth, she was all but dragging him to the foot of the stairs. She didn't miss the line that had etched between his brows.

In fact, it had her biting back a groan.

Maybe she should write a book: How To Look Stupid In One Minute Or Less.

What genre would it be? A comedy? A horror? Maybe a tragedy?

She couldn't decide.

All she knew is it wouldn't be a self-help book.

"So, umm…" Marinette tapped her pointer fingers together, her lips wiggling in thought. "What are you doing there? I mean _here_. In my house." Her shoulders seized. "Which I totally mind, by the way. I – I mean, which I totally _don't_ mind." She faked a long yawn. "Sorry, I'm being a freak—I mean, it's… uhh… _been a long week_. Yeah, that's what I meant."

Adrien held up a hand and smiled. "It's okay, Marinette. I know you didn't sleep well last night." He slid a familiar pink bag from his back and she barely resisted the urge to smack her head against the nearby bookcase. "That's probably why you left this in class. I was stopping by the bakery anyway, so I thought I'd return it." He held the bag out to her, still wearing that warm-hearted smile of his, and she accepted it with rigid movements.

"Th – Thank you, Adrien." She pulled it over one shoulder and peered up at him, a blush grazing her cheeks. "That's very curious—I mean _sweet_ of you."

And it _was_.

But why not just leave it with her parents?

Surely that would've been way easier than delivering it to her in person.

Marinette sucked in a breath. What if he was trying to figure out if she was, in fact, Ladybug?

That would involve being around her more. And annoyingly, it also happened to sabotage her own plans to avoid him.

Suspecting she was Ladybug due to her word vomit was one thing. Didn't he know better than to actively seek out her identity?

She _hoped_ so.

Maybe she was just reading into this too much.

Adrien had always been thoughtful. This might've just been one of those times.

"Oh, it was nothing," he insisted, tearing her from those thoughts. "You've done far more for me since we met." Remembrance lit up his eyes like the flick of a switch, and he glanced at the paper bag around his wrist. "That reminds me." He strode over to the kitchen, set the bag on the counter and dipped his hand inside. "Your father mentioned his pear and pineapple cheesecake is a favourite of yours. And if your designs are anything to go by, you have _really_ great taste." He pulled out a small carton that brandished the same golden emblem as the bag. "So, I thought you might like a slice."

"Adrien, I…" She gaped, first at him, then at the carton. "You – You didn't have to! Thank you." They exchanged smiles as she accepted the carton, and placed it on the nearby counter.

"Again, it's nothing." Adrien waved his hands out before him, as if to emphasise his point. "Honestly, I was there to get something for another friend anyway." He glanced at the paper bag, now containing two neatly stacked cartons rather than three. "But it looked so delicious, I just had to get myself a slice. And there was only one left after that, so… I thought it might make a nice start to your weekend."

Marinette felt resistance as she swallowed, her throat closing. The other slice of cake must've been for Kagami.

"That's—" Her voice cracked and she hoped he hadn't noticed. "That's, umm, really thoughtful of you." Her eyes sunk to the counter as she smoothed her hand across it, its surface cool against her palm. "I, um – I hope Papa didn't make you pay for _my_ piece."

He gave a half-smile. "Worse! He _insisted_ I have it for free."

She giggled. "Yup. That sounds like Papa."

Adrien set his hand flat against the counter, as though mirroring her stance. "In the end, he settled for giving me a discount."

When he leaned in close and revealed a sly smirk, her first thought was that it should've come with a warning. Chat Noir had done this a million times, but Adrien? Only _once_ that she could recall – after Troublemaker – when he'd leaned into her personal bubble and teasingly accused her of lying about why his face was all over her room. In hindsight, that _had_ been a very Chat thing to do.

Again, how had she been _so blind_?

Adrien’s voice snapped her back to the present. "Don't tell your father," he whispered behind his hand, "but I _may_ have slipped a few notes in the tip jar when he wasn't looking."

Before she could stop herself, Marinette snorted with amusement. "I won't tell him," she said, a twinkle in her eyes, "but only because you're bribing me with cake."

"You're too kind," he actually teased—and for a second, she stopped breathing. Heck, she even snuck a glance at her arm, just to make sure she wasn't transformed. When had this become an exchange not unlike the ones shared by their alter egos?

Adrien fished his sleek smartphone from his school bag and spared it a glance. "Well, I should probably get going. I've got fencing in less than half an hour."

"Sure," said Marinette, watching as he plucked the paper bag from the counter. "I'll see you out then." She led him to the front door, opening it to reveal the dimly lit stairwell beyond. "Thanks again for bringing my backpack, Adrien. And thanks for the cake. You really didn't have to."

Adrien held up a hand. "At the risk of sounding like a broken record player, it really is nothing." He tugged the strap of his bag a little higher on his shoulder. "And I hope you enjoy the cake. It was made by the best baker in Paris"—he winked—"so that shouldn't be hard."

Marinette giggled. "I'll pass your compliments onto the chef." She glanced at the paper bag on his arm, and drooped as she eyed the two cartons within it. "Well, you'd better not keep Kagami waiting." In that moment, she was reminded of the lacklustre way she'd reacted to his new girlfriend joining them tomorrow for video games. "Uh – Actually, I – umm – I just wanted to berate— _congratulate_ you on, well… you and Kagami." As her grip on the front door tightened, she could only hope her smile seemed sincere. "You guys… You make a cute couple."

"Oh, I – Thank you, Marinette." His eyes dropped to his feet, but not before she caught sight of the thought that hazed their depths. She recognised that look; Chat had worn it just last night, when gathering his words.

Marinette remained silent, as Ladybug had, and allowed him some time to think.

Only a few seconds ticked by, both of them still and quiet in the doorway. "Hey… err…" His eyes inched up to meet hers. "Remember the advice you gave me about Kagami?"

Marinette stiffened. "I – Uh. About the ice rink? _Yeah_. I remember." She laughed, but there was no real joy to the sound. "Why do you ask?"

"Well," Adrien drawled, pink painting his ears, "I was kind of hoping you could give me some more advice about her… if that's all right?"

At this point, she was stiffer than the mannequin that lived in her bedroom. She hoped and hoped and hoped he wasn't wanting her to tag along on _another_ date. She was all for helping him out, but in hindsight, that trip to the ice rink had been agony—and that was _before_ she knew he was the cat who'd been incessantly asking her out for over a year.

"I... uhh..." Her voice sounded as though it'd been shoved through a strainer. " _Sure_. Um. Go away. I mean, _fire ahead_. No – uh – _go_ ahead." If he hadn't been right there, she would've smacked her forehead for sure.

Adrien pressed his hands together, his eyes sinking down and to his right. "Well, you see"—he looked back at her—"despite what the media are saying, Kagami and I aren't actually official yet."

Shock flashed across Marinette's face. "Really?" She shot straight. "I – I mean, uhh… carry on."

"The thing is… Kagami thinks we _are_ official, but I'm, well…" He looked back at the ground, his bangs falling across his eyes to frame his steadily flushing cheeks. "Promise you won't laugh?"

Marinette smiled. "Of course not."

Adrien peered up from the ground. "Honestly, I'm kind of a hopeless romantic." She bit back the urge to burst out 'same'. "So… I've always imagined getting a girlfriend would go a lot differently than this."

She bit her lower lip, as thoughts of a black cat on a Parisian rooftop affronted her mind. "You mean things like"—she practically squeaked her next words—"love poems and roses and candlelit dinners?"

His eyes shot wide. "I – Yes. Yes, exactly like that, actually." His brows gathered, light fading from his eyes—and her insides twisted at the sight.

Was he thinking back to that rooftop dinner date he’d put together?

Of all the times Ladybug had rejected him?

All the times _she’d_ rejected him?

"Anyway," Adrien said, that light re-sparking in his eyes, though a little dimmer than before, "I guess the thing I want to ask you is, well…" He bit his bottom lip, something that shouldn't have been so darn cute given the circumstances. "If you were Kagami, what would _you_ want me to do? Should I tell her what I've just told you? Or should I just… I don't know… go with the idea that we _are_ official?"

Her heart hammered in her ribcage, so hard its every beat seemed to pop her eardrums. Maybe her luck really had run dry back on the Eiffel Tower. It had only been a matter of time, right?

"You can't tell her," she finally said, only to backtrack. "I mean, you _should_ tell her. I – I mean…" She stopped to draw in a breath, taking a moment to reclaim her composure.

Right now, Adrien deserved the guidance of a friend—and he'd chosen _her_. Even if her heart was coming undone at the seams, she’d never let her kitty down—and she _refused_ to start now.

"If I thought we were already together, I'd still love it if you asked me properly." Her words flowed with a surprising level of ease. "Maybe you could even ask her during that candlelit dinner. And even better, you'd get what you were hoping for from the beginning _and_ you'd clear things up all at once."

Adrien had hung from her every word, his face steadily brightening with each syllable that left her lips. "You're right," he said, purpose filling his voice. "Thanks, Marinette! You're always the girl with a plan."

Marinette threaded her fingers in front of her, a shy smile lining her lips. "Yup, that's _me_." Her smile twitched. "Oh and I hope Kagami destroys—err, _enjoys_ the cake!"

Adrien rubbed the nape of his neck. "Actually, it's for someone else." He gripped his chin, guilt straining his next words. "But now that you mention it, maybe I should've gotten a piece for her too."

"Oh. Well, umm—" She scoured her brain for a solution. "Why don't you just… uhh, give her mine?"

He shook his head. "No need, Marinette. It was meant for you." Smiling, he held up the paper bag around his arm. "I'll just give her mine. Problem solved."

Her eyes went round. "But you have to try Papa's pear and pineapple cake, Adrien. It's _delicious_!" Tenacity transformed her face. "Come with me." It was a statement, not a suggestion—and before he could protest, she'd grabbed his wrist and pulled him into the kitchen.

"Marinette, you don't need to—"

"Yes, I _do_." She plucked a small plate from a nearby cupboard and a knife from a drawer. "There is _no way_ I'm letting you leave without your own slice of Papa's cheesecake."

Marinette sliced a sliver from her cake and shifted it to her plate. The larger piece, of course, stayed in the carton, while the plated piece was stowed in the fridge. She soon faced him, the carton gripped within two pale hands; it nearly slipped through her fingers when she saw his smile—so light, so familiar, so full of fondness. When being stubborn, Ladybug often found herself on the receiving end of it.

It was such a Chat Noir smile.

And in that moment, she realised it was such an Adrien smile too.

"Thank you, Marinette." That smile didn't once waver as he placed the carton in the paper bag, atop the two others. "You didn't have to trouble yourself like that."

"Hey, it was a piece of cake." Marinette immediately knew what she'd unleashed and quite frankly, she didn't care.

Awe filled his face. "Was that a _pun_ I just heard?"

She held a hand to her lips, hiding the way they quirked up at the corners. "Mhm. And a pretty _sweet_ one, if I do say so myself."

"Puns _and_ baked goods. Isn't this just the icing on the cake?"

"I guess today you get to have your cake and eat it too."

Adrien laughed, loud and hearty. It was a laugh she rarely heard, and cliché as it may be, that sound was like an entire symphony to her ears. "Wow, Marinette," he said, a grin bright on his face. "I never realised you were so punny!"

She shrugged. "Well, there are a lot of things you don't know about me." The phrase came innocently enough, but the moment it sunk in, a strangled croak crept up her throat. "That is, err… things like, what I ate for breakfast this morning or – um – what my favourite kind of potato is and – uh – my second favourite colour. Yeah, things like _that_. Y'know?"

A chuckle shook his shoulders. "Well, there are a lot of things you don't know about me either,” he said, a spark in his eyes—it was snuffed within a second. "Err – By that I of course mean…. uh… things like my least favourite food or my… favourite flavour of macaron."

"Hey, isn't it pass—" Marinette slapped a hand to her lips, heat rising to her cheeks. "Uhh… _Past_ the time you wanted to leave by?"

Recollection flared in his eyes. "Oh – Right! Thanks for reminding me." He glanced at the time on the nearby microwave and sucked air in through his teeth. "Okay, I _definitely_ need to get going." He rushed from the kitchen to the entrance, his right hand gripping the shoulder strap of his bag as his left reached for the bronze doorknob.

Marinette beat him to it, pulling the door aside with a smile he returned without hesitation.

"By the way," he said, just as he stepped into the stairwell, "whenever you've got any _puns_ in the oven, feel free to throw them my way."

"I'll keep you _roasted_."

He slipped her a side glance, his smile crossing into smirk territory. "Oh and don't think I didn't notice you gave me the bigger slice."

Her lips seemed to move of their own accord. "I'm sorry. Can Mr Teen Model not handle all the calories?"

For a moment, he seemed incapable of forming words, his mouth opening and closing like a goldfish. And then he simply beamed at her. "See you tomorrow, Marinette."

She nodded, her eyes gleaming. "Enjoy your cake!"

"I'm sure I'll enjoy every single calorie of it." And with another of his classic winks, Adrien left.

Only when Tikki spoke up, peeking out of her side bag, did Marinette realise he was long gone and she was _still_ holding the front door wide open, a goofy smile across her lips.

"I thought you were planning to _avoid_ Adrien."

Marinette could almost hear her kwami's unspoken 'not _flirt_ with him'. She slapped the air, a pained laugh prying her lips apart. "Pffft. Ha! _No_. Don't be silly, Tikki. I was just—"

"Keeping his calorie intake in check?" Tikki said, fluttering her eyelashes dramatically.

"I – I didn't look like _that_!" Marinette shoved the door shut, a pout on her lips. "I – I was – He was—" Unleashing a groan, she slumped against the door and sunk to the ground, the wooden floorboards cold against her bare calves. "He was acting like Chat Noir and… I don't know… the Ladybug in me just… just took over."

"Uh huh," Tikki drawled, mirth thick in her voice. "So, you're still going to Alya's tomorrow?"

"Of course!" Marinette said, throwing her hands out for emphasis. "I already said yes to her _days_ ago. And it's not like I expected Adrien's dad to say the same to _him_. He _never_ lets him hang out with his friends!" She chewed at her bottom lip, thoughts of tomorrow dragging her down from her Adrien-induced stupor.

Tikki floated out of her side bag and hovered at eye level. "Well, you have a joint patrol tonight. At least you can get some more practice at acting normal around him." There was a glint in Tikki's eyes and a cheeky smirk on her lips. "Though by your flirting just now, I'd say you're already well on your way."

Groaning, Marinette hid her face behind a hand. "I'm pretty sure talking to Adrien like that is _not_ normal."

"You're right." Tikki's smirk stretched as she zipped closer to her owner. "But talking to _Chat Noir_ like that is."

"Tikki!" Marinette shrieked, leaping to her feet. "He has a girlfriend! Well… a not-girlfriend. Or a… might-as-well-be-girlfriend. I… You know what I mean. And besides, I'm kind of… I dunno… _sort of_ seeing Luka?"

"I know, I know." Tikki giggled as she floated onto her chosen's shoulder. "I'm just teasing."

A small smile soon painted Marinette's lips as she tickled Tikki's belly. "What am I going to do with you?"

Tikki giggled in her ear, remaining on Marinette's shoulder as she scaled the stairs to her bedroom. Her latest encounter with Adrien raced through her mind, bringing with it a thought she'd previously dismissed. "My reaction last night as Ladybug must've _really_ freaked him out if he's bringing cheesecake to patrol." The light of clarity brightened her eyes and she snapped her fingers triumphantly. "But _that_ gives me an idea."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was giggling like a schoolgirl while writing this. Hopefully you did the same while reading it! :D Also, congrats to Mari for flirting with Adrien without spontaneously combusting. XD


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Previously, on You Times Two… Our boy flirted up a storm with Marinette “Just A Friend” Dupain-Cheng—and whataya know, our girl’s got game and dished the flirt right back. Some pretty sweet puns flew all over the show. And much to our dismay, yet not at all to our surprise, Adrien sought advice on how to handle Kagami “Thinks I’m Her Boyfriend” Tsurugi. (He really needs to stop doing that.) Will Sunshine Boy make use of her counsel? And will Maribug avoid her kitty’s cake offering tonight? Let’s find out, boys and girls!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you guys enjoy this chapter of YTT—it's the longest one yet at over 5.6k words! :3

Adrien rummaged through his duffle bag, the scent of sweat, leather and cheese affronting his nose. "Geez," he choked, retreating from his locker to suck in a breath, "I really need to clean this thing."

Inside the bag, Plagg lounged in an empty container, rubbing his full belly. "I happen to _like_ the way it smells."

Pinching his nose, Adrien plucked a glove from the bag with his free hand. "Hmm. I wonder why." He sent Plagg a side glance. "Maybe because it's infested with crumbs of your stinky cheese."

Plagg burped. "I give you superpowers. You give me camembert. That's the deal, kid."

Adrien rolled his eyes and smiled. "Yeah, yeah." He sniffed the glove, breathed a sigh of relief, and slipped it on. "You could at least practice _clean_ eating." He plonked on his helmet, though didn't yet cover his face, and puffed a stray strand of blond from his eyes. "Do me a favour and don't eat my socks while I'm gone. Or Kagami's cake."

At least he didn't have to worry about Ladybug's piece. He'd stowed it away in Plagg's cheese fridge when he'd raced (or rather, when his _bodyguard_ had raced him) by the mansion to fetch his fencing gear.

A sigh slipped from his lips, his stomach looping in knots, as the events of last night flooded his mind like a river after a sudden storm. He wondered – not for the first time – how he could've upset Ladybug.

Hopefully, she really _was_ just a fan.

A very surprised fan.

And all going to plan, he'd make everything right at patrol tonight.

But what if he didn't?

Maybe Ladybug _hated_ Adrien Agreste.

Maybe _that's_ why she'd reacted to his identity so frantically, scrambling for the nearest exit.

Maybe their partnership was over.

What if she didn't even show up this evening?

The groan of metal hinges tore through the room as Adrien shoved his locker shut, hoping to trap his crazy thoughts within its four steel walls.

"You seem distracted."

He shot to full height, his eyes darting left to find a geared-up Kagami, her red-hilted sabre in hand. She stepped forward, watching him intently, and placed her free hand to his cheek.

Her smile was as warm as her touch, yet the knots in his stomach refused to subside.

"Is everything all right, Adrien?"

He guided her hand from his cheek, managing a smile. "Sorry, Kagami. I just… have a lot on my mind right now."

She tilted her head, her dark hair following suit. "We can talk about it if you'd like?"

Adrien wished it was that simple—wished he could reveal his identity, his dilemma, his troubles, _everything_ —but if there was one thing his circumstances _weren't_ , it was simple. Would Kagami even understand?

Adrien flashed another smile, before retrieving his sabre from a nearby bench. "Thanks, Kagami, but I'm fine. Honestly." His eyes remained on his sabre, as he flexed the hilt between his gloved hands. "I just have a few things to figure out, that's all."

"I could help if you want?" Her voice was eager, assertive, and his smile came more easily.

"Don't worry, Kagami," he said, raising his hand. "There's really no need." Or rather, no way.

Her eyes flickered to the ground, an unfamiliar expression sliding onto her face. "If you're upset, isn't it my duty as your girlfriend to cheer you up?"

He stiffened at the title, reminded of Marinette's advice less than thirty minutes back. His lips parted, but only a dry croak escaped them.

When he said nothing—or rather, nothing intelligible—Kagami took it upon herself to continue. "Have I done something to upset you?"

Adrien nearly dropped his sabre. "No, of course not," he burst with conviction, guilt biting at his brain. "I mean, uhh…" Again, that advice flitted through his mind, and this time, he seized the chance to make use of it. "Hey, are you free tomorrow? After Alya's, I mean."

For a moment, those enthralling brown eyes seemed to scrutinise him. "Well," she finally said, "I can tell Mother our one-on-one fencing session is running later than expected." The makings of a smirk played on her lips. "Why do you ask?"

"I was just thinking"—he moved to rub his neck, only to realise his gloves and helmet made that tricky—"maybe we could, uhh, go out for dinner?"

Kagami's smirk softened into a smile. "Did you have anywhere in mind?"

Only as his shoulders slackened did he realise they'd been tense to begin with. "It's"—his thoughts drifted back to that candlelit rooftop—"a surprise."

When her lips drew into a firm line, and she stole a glance at her shoes, Adrien worried she perhaps wasn't a fan of surprises. He bit his lower lip, readying himself for the bite of rejection.

It didn't come.

"Very well," Kagami said, placing a hand on his shoulder. "I should let you know, I'm especially fond of seafood, Mediterranean, and a greasy slice of pizza"—she revealed a wry smile—"despite Mother's protests." Her hand slid from his shoulder, back to her side. "Also, I'm allergic to peanuts, but only mildly."

Adrien gaped, unprepared for that answer. It was stupid, really. She was… well, _kind of_ his girlfriend. And even when she hadn’t been, she'd said yes to their trip to the ice rink.

A smile snuck across his lips. "Um – All right." He made a mental note of her preferences, already envisioning the night in his mind's eye—the scent of steadily burning candle wax, a sea of vibrant red roses, the freshness of tzatziki and succulent, spiced chicken. "So no peanuts and – uhh – it's a date, then?"

Her smile stretched in sync with her nod. "It's a date, Adrien."

His face brightened. "Then I'll see you at Alya's. We can head to dinner straight from there." Remembrance sparked in his green eyes. "And speaking of surprises, I have a small one in my locker for you." He winked. "I'll give you it after practice."

Kagami reached for his hand, threading his fingers with hers – at least, as much as their gloves allowed it. "I look forward to it."

At that, Adrien lightly squeezed her hand, unsure of which surprise she was referring to.

He didn't mind either way.

* * *

Marinette stared down her half-eaten cheesecake, a fork hanging from her mouth, as Clara Nightingale's "Big Bang" blasted through her computer speakers. From the corner of her eye, Tikki shimmied along to the upbeat choreography, and her lips quirked up at the sight.

She plucked the fork from her mouth and tapped it against her desk, a sigh sliding through her lips. Had Adrien given her this cake a week ago, she'd probably be giving a beetroot a run for its money.

Now?

Not so much.

Marinette knew she was being stupid. Sure, Kagami was getting a slice, but _hers_ didn't need to taste so bitter because of it.

Guilt clawed at her chest.

Surely it was natural to feel some level of bitterness towards Kagami. She _had_ captured the heart of the boy she'd been fawning over for more than a year. And on top of that, it turned out said boy was also her akuma-fighting partner.

Somehow, that fact only made the sting of jealousy all the more potent.

Marinette knew she had no one to blame but herself.

And she certainly had no right to be mad.

She'd had countless opportunities to tell Adrien how she felt.

But she'd always hesitated.

Kagami didn't.

And now he was hers.

Marinette sagged in her chair as memories of Weredad gnawed at her brain, a reminder that Adrien – in the guise of Chat Noir – had rejected her as Marinette.

For Ladybug, yes.

Regardless, that fact still stung like a sabre straight to the chest, even if it at least answered a question that had hounded her brain since the day she'd started crushing on Adrien: did he feel the same way?

When she wasn't Ladybug, the answer was clearly a resounding _no_ ; however, if the bits and pieces she _did_ know from Chat Blanc were true, Adrien would accept her whole self in a heartbeat.

At first, she wasn't sure of how to feel about that… but as her mind continued to wander, she recalled the countless times she'd rejected Chat Noir, and the bite of rejection dulled. She cared deeply for Chat. He was one of her closest friends, someone she entrusted her life to every day—but all this time, she'd clung to the hope of one day pouring her heart out to Adrien. She'd been so blinded by her love for him that she'd never even considered her kitty beyond a few brief imaginings, all of which she'd dismissed the second she thought of Adrien.

Chat Noir was her partner and apparently, anything more between them – _between_ _her and Adrien_ – couldn't just complicate things; it could literally bring about the end of the world.

Her thoughts wandered to Luka, of the beautiful song he'd written her, of how he wore his heart on his sleeve, of how _simple_ everything seemed when he was around.

Maybe, despite Chat Noir's unveiling, it wasn't so selfish to pursue Luka.

The knowledge of Chat's identity brought with it a sense of clarity, she realised. He'd given up on Ladybug – on _her_ – in favour of Kagami. And as wounding as it was, she respected that decision.

After all, he deserved to be happy. She _wanted_ him to be happy.

And _she_ deserved happiness too.

With a resigned sigh, Marinette glanced at the bottom right corner of her computer screen.

8:14pm.

Just like that, she ceaselessly tapped her toes against the foot of her office chair. Only sixteen minutes until her patrol with Chat Noir—with _Adrien_.

Marinette set down her fork and offered the rest of her cake to Tikki.

She'd lost her appetite.

She staggered to her feet and started to pace, Tikki's quiet chews distant to her ears. "Just remember, Marinette," she muttered to herself, a hand pressed to her chin, "if the cake is for _you_ , then _oh darn_ , you're lactose intolerant. Unlike Marinette Dupain-Cheng." She shook her head. "Just don't say the _last_ part out loud." Her hand dropped from her chin to toy with the hem of her black cardigan. "And if he asks if you're a fan, why yes, you are. But not a _huge_ fan. Just a regular fan. Of his work. Not his face. So he doesn't get the wrong idea." She drummed her fingers against her temples, as though that'd drill these tidbits into her brain. "If you start to freak out, fall back on puns. If it worked this afternoon, it'll work this evening." She'd completed a full loop around her room. "And if he asks if you're on Instagram, the answer is _definitely not_. No— _what's Instagram_? Yes. Perfect!"

Tikki gave her a look from atop the now-empty plate. "Why would he ask _that_?"

Marinette sunk into her desk chair. "Well, if he thinks Ladybug's a fan of his, he might sift through his followers hoping to find her." She slapped her hands to her cheeks, picturing that very scenario. "Then he'd find _me_ – the girl he already suspects – and realise that I _am_ Ladybug. It'd be a _total_ _disaster_!"

Tikki pursed her lips, as though fighting back a giggle. "You're his _friend_ , Marinette. Of course, you follow him on social media." She paused to tap her lips, a few crumbs of cake spritzed around her mouth. "Besides, he already _knows_ you're a fan of his." Seeing her chosen's face twist with horror, she quickly added, "As Marinette, I mean! And anyway, he has _heaps_ of fans."

Marinette croaked out a groan, her head colliding with the desk.

Tikki settled near her face and placed a reassuring hand to her cheek. "Remember, Marinette, he's the same Chat Noir he was before. Not to mention you were making cake puns together only _hours_ ago. Just don't think too hard and you'll be fine!"

"Y'know what?" Marinette leaped to her feet, sending her chair spinning. "You're _right_. I _can_ do this!" Her eyes shone as she slammed her hands against the desk. "It's time to patrol Paris with Adrien Agreste! So, Tikki, spots on!"

* * *

The final fragments of day clung to the darkening sky, where bits of blue and pink and lilac slipped away with the setting sun.

After one graceful flip saw her perched near the edge of a slated rooftop, Ladybug glimpsed the time on her yoyo and stopped to admire the view. Up ahead, the Eiffel Tower set the evening ablaze with its fierce, yellow glow. And below, Friday night traffic meandered through the streets, the steady hum of car motors coating the air like white noise.

It was soothing, humbling, and yet somehow empowering… to stand on that quiet rooftop, but a tiny piece of a puzzle that formed such a striking city.

"Taking the scenic route, huh?"

Ladybug recognised that voice in a heartbeat. Thanks to the power of hindsight, she even considered smacking her head against the nearest chimney.

They sounded _so_ alike.

"Quiet as a cat, I see." She didn't know when a smile had slid across her lips, but welcomed it all the same.

Chat Noir emerged at her side, silent as the evening breeze. "I'm nothing if not consistent." The smile he gave her was small, light, even timid, and all she saw was Adrien.

That thought seemed to hail an ocean of nerves and within seconds, her chest ached from the rising weight of it all. She pried her eyes from his, remembering the pep-talk she'd given herself only ten minutes prior.

Puns.

When in doubt, turn to puns.

Yes, she could do that.

"Consistent?" She spared a glance his way. "I think you mean _purr_ sistent."

Chat arched a brow. "Who are you and what have you done with my partner?" The delighted lilt of his voice didn't go unnoticed, nor the way he leaned closer. Was _he_ even aware he was doing it?

Oh, she certainly was.

Adrien Agreste, the boy she'd been crushing on for over a year, was being receptive to her jokes—to _her_.

And always had been.

That realisation brought with it a rush she was _not_ prepared for.

"Your clawful sense of humour must be rubbing off on me." She snuck him a smirk, fighting the urge to jingle that silly bell of his.

"Clawful?" Chat threw his nose in the air, his pout as apparent as his sass. "I think you mean _clawver_!"

"Pawdon my ofurrsight." She giggled into her latex-covered hand.

"Well, colour me impurressed." He slipped her a curious glance. "Where'd _this_ come from?"

She shrugged. "I guess I'm just feeling punny tonight."

"Well," Chat said, nodding with approval, "I'm _furry_ much okay with that." His smile was steady, unwavering, as he turned to the Eiffel Tower, clearly content with admiring the view.

And what a view it was.

The way that fiery yellow glow illuminated every handsome inch of his face. How shadows splashed wherever that glow allowed them, highlighting the serene smile that lined his full lips, as it often did during quiet moments such as this. And least of all, those strikingly green eyes, as vibrant out of the mask as they were within it.

She turned away, drawing a hand to her chest.

"Ladybug?" Concern was clear in his voice. "Is something wrong?"

When she looked his way once more, the squareness of his shoulders weren't lost on her—like he was bracing for impact. Was he afraid of her answer?

No, that would imply he already knew it.

And he definitely – _hopefully_ – didn't know the dangerous turn her thoughts had just taken.

She pursed her lips. No, this must be fear over her reaction last night. A reaction that, to her concern, had alarmed him so much he'd quite possibly bought her cake.

She had to remedy that.

"Adrien…"

When Chat's brows shot up, Ladybug was starkly reminded that he wore a mask for a reason. She slapped one hand to her lips, muffling a gasp, as her other frantically rocked through the air. "Sorry! _Sorry_! I am _so_ sorry! I meant _Chat_!" She pulled her hands across her face, peeking up at him from through her gloved fingers. "I know I shouldn't say your name when you're— I – I mean, it's just… habit, I guess?" She bolted straight up, her hands slapping against her thighs. "I mean, not _habit_ ," she squealed. "That would imply I'm _used_ to using your name, which I most definitely am _not_ —"

"Hey," Chat cut her off, raising a paw. "No sweat, LB." He smiled, despite the way his brows furrowed beneath his mask. "Hearing my name while suited up… I just didn't expect it, that's all. It's not a big deal, honestly."

Those words gave her pause. _"No sweat, Clumsy Girl,"_ she could still hear him say, beaming her way and clutching his baton. _"I'm learning the ropes too."_

A small smile painted her lips. He'd always been so laidback, so supportive, so slow to judge.

_So Adrien._

"Ladybug…" Chat eyed her closely, his lips twisted to one side. "Is something on your mind?"

She stared into his eyes—green, green, green—like rolling fields or mines of sparkling tourmaline. "Furgive me, Kitty? It's been a… _long_ day."

Hold up.

Hadn't reassuring _him_ been the plan?

Not the other way around.

His hand was on her shoulder, a wry smile lining his lips. "Hey, it's hard _not_ to let it slide when you're making such meowvelous puns." He winked, then extended a hand toward the iron behemoth ahead of them, glowing brighter as night descended. "Shall we?"

She had to smile at that. With a nod, she spun the yoyo still clutched in her hand, and he followed suit, withdrawing his staff.

"Ladybugs first," Chat said, offering a princely bow as he flourished a hand toward the tower.

Come to think of it, Adrien had bowed like that on at least one occasion, when Great Uncle Cheng had come to stay. Did he make a habit of doing so both in _and_ out of the mask?

Returning to the present, she hurled her yoyo at a far-off lamppost. "Don't mind if I do." And with one tug, she was off.

The whir of his staff, and the clank of metal against the pavement below, was enough to know he was close behind.

After a few swings on her end and a few vaults on his, they descended upon the esplanade of the Eiffel Tower, landing side-by-side, and attracting gapes and whispers from throngs of passing pedestrians.

"Wanna _catch_ a ride?" said Chat, extending a gloved hand.

She clutched her yoyo close. "This ladybug stands on her own two feet, thank you very much."

He leaned in, quirking a brow. "Don't ladybugs have _six_ feet?"

Ladybug gave an eye roll. "Of course, you'd know," she said, planting a hand over his face to shove him out of her bubble.

He poised his paws atop his extended staff. "I suppose I _am_ an expert on all things Ladybug."

She shook her head, her smile as wry as his. "Race ya to the top?"

"I could"—he snuck her a side glance—"but we both know _I'm_ faster."

Another eye roll. "Then winning should be kitten's play." Giving him no chance to answer, she flung her yoyo at a distant beam and launched off the pavement.

Wind whistled in her ears as she leaped, flipped and swung from one iron beam to the next, with such fluidity one would think she was running on auto-pilot.

Until a blur of black shot by, and Ladybug almost landed on her face instead of her feet.

Apparently, Chat Noir's stick could span the height of the Eiffel Tower if he so wished, given he was riding the dang thing all the way to the highest platform. He was soon leaning over the railing far above, offering a wave and a toothy grin.

Was it humanly possible to roll her eyes right out of her head?

That question hung near the fringes of her mind as she scaled the rest of the tower and, half a minute later, flew over the railing and onto the summit. "You sly cat," she called, huffing a wayward strand of dark hair from her face. "Your fancy stick did all the—"

Expecting Chat Noir, she froze at the stunning green gaze of Adrien Agreste. He sat on the ground, cross-legged and beaming up at her, between two familiar cartons and a dancing candle flame.

Her thoughts lurched back to that painfully romantic rooftop dinner, and she almost descended into an all-out wheezing fit right that second.

Yes, she knew his identity.

That very fact was never far from her thoughts.

But even so, this stark, sudden reminder was something she'd in no way been ready for.

"You took your time." His cheeky smirk seemed so out of place without the mask. "I even stopped by the groomers for a makeover," he said, flicking his perfect hair like something straight out of a L'Oreal commercial.

Frustratingly, all that occupied her mind in that moment was how that smirk didn't suit him.

Or perhaps, how the sight of it was so foreign to her.

And how she wished that wasn't so.

After a few failed attempts, Ladybug latched her yoyo around her waist, and gave the set-up a second glance. Adrien had set his schoolbag on the ground just behind him—he must've transformed while wearing it—and she didn't miss the loud chewing that came from within it.

"Sorry about Plagg." He rubbed his neck, smirk fading into a sheepish smile. "If there's one thing he's passionate about, it's Camembert."

"So I've heard," she somehow managed. Her hands threaded behind her, and her steps were unsteady as she approached. "So, um – what's all this?"

"Just a little treat from the best bakery in town." He waved a hand toward the empty spot across from him, and she wasn't sure if she'd sunk into that spot of her own accord, or if her legs had turned to jelly once she'd reached it.

Crossing her legs, she squeaked, "What bakery would that be?"

"The Dupain-Chengs." He tipped his head, his blond bangs swaying at the movement. "You've never been?"

Ladybug tensed. "Oh – Uhh – The one by that high school?" She gripped her knees a little too tightly. "Yeahhh, that's a bit outta the way for me. As – err – my civilian self, that is. 'Cause, y'know… we're clearly near there quite often as, uhh, _our_ selves." She cleared her throat, her lips sliding off to one side. "I mean, I _do_ know the Dupain-Chengs own a bakery. My, uhh… mum's… uncle's… cousin's… step-son's… fiancée… She's, umm… a friend of theirs. That's how I knew about Marinette. I've _very briefly_ met her and I, uhh… thought she'd make a good Multimouse." She could've facepalmed— _would've_ , if he wasn't watching. "I mean, when I choose superheroes, I try to choose people I think will make good ones, but at the same time, I try not to choose someone I'm close to, y'know?" A strangled laugh left her lips. "'Cause that could – err – risk my identity and, well, we certainly don't want that."

Smooth, Ladybug.

Real smooth.

He opened his mouth, but she beat him to form words—because he probably had a bunch of questions after that little spiel, and answering _any_ of them could very well dig her into a deeper hole. "So! What's the occasion?" She drummed her fingers against her knees, shooting glances between him and the cartons.

Adrien's shoulders went square, as Chat's had only minutes earlier, and in his lap, his thumbs ran races around each other. "Uhh… So… Well…" A hint of pink crept across his ears, steadily making its descent down to his cheeks. "You seemed a little upset last night and I…" He grabbed the top carton from the stack of two. "I guess I was worried that—"

"I – Yeah – Sorry about that." She chewed at her lower lip, only vaguely recalling her self-given pep-talk. Gosh, what _perfect_ timing! "I – um – kinda freaked out a little last night."

The dubious look he gave her said it all.

Ladybug shrunk into her shoulders. "Okay, a _lot_." She barely resisted the urge to toy with her yoyo—because boy, had that turned out _swell_ last night. "You see, Adrien… I, uhh – I'm kind of a fan of yours."

Seeing his eyes widen was enough to make her fly to her feet and pace. "Not, like, a _crazy_ _fangirl_ or anything. Like, I wouldn't go putting pictures of you all over my room"—she flicked her hands to one side, as if gesturing to some invisible wall—"because, well, _that_ would be crazy."

She stilled, heat rising to her cheeks.

No no no _no_!

Why did she even _say_ that?

Now he was going to think she – _Marinette_ – was a crazy fangirl.

Yes, she kind of was.

But _he_ didn't need to know that!

Ladybug turned away, hiding her reddening face. "I mean, not that there's anything _wrong_ with someone having photos of you all over their room. I mean, people do that for a whole bunch of reasons. In fact, putting photos of a celebrity – especially a _model_ – all over your wall is just, uhh… commendable? Or, erm… dedication… to the arts? Yeah, it's _that_."

Upon re-facing him, she realised he'd jumped to his feet. His lips were slightly agape; his brows slowly furling.

Oh great. She was just _confusing_ him!

"But," Ladybug squeaked, "that way of fangirling—or, err… expressing an _art form_ —just _isn't_ for me. 'Cause like I said, I'm just arugula—I mean, a _regular_ fan. Of your work. Not your face." She gasped. "Not – Not that there's anything _wrong_ with your face. Your face is perfect"—the grin she showed flipped in on itself—" _ly_ fine. Yeah, it's _perfectly fine_. I – uh – just didn't know how to handle the fact my kitty is, well… _you_." She considered throwing herself over the nearby railing. "Sorry! That came out wrong! I – I didn't mean—"

Two arms drew her close and suddenly, she found herself gawking at the lean muscles of his neck, as he eased a hand around her waist, his other settling between her shoulder blades.

Heat swarmed across her skin. His cologne was almost palpable, sweet and spicy at once, greeting her nose and making it sing. The warmth of his touch seemed to melt through her suit, soothing her frantic thoughts and replacing them with only him.

She lost all sense of time.

Had seconds ticked by?

Maybe minutes?

If there was one thing she _was_ aware of, it was the steadily heightening _thud thud thud_ that emanated from his chest, as though his heart was pounding and pounding and pounding on his ribcage, throwing punch after punch, trying to burst free.

The sound verged on deafening by the time his hands found her shoulders, and he ended the embrace as though doing so was a chore. The second he’d pulled back, the crisp evening air had swarmed across her suit, yet the hands that remained on her shoulders somehow kept any shivers at bay.

"Absolutely _nothing_ has changed, Ladybug," he said, locking his eyes with hers. "I'm still the same silly kitty I've always been. And we're still the same unstoppable team we've always been"—his bangs fell across his eyes as he stared at his shoes—"aren't we?"

He suddenly seemed unsure.

It made her insides coil. She'd already explained her reaction last night. That it was all on _her_. Why would he think they were no longer a team?

Ladybug eased his hands off her shoulders and to his sides, and didn't let go. "Of course, we are." She revealed a small smile, but it wavered when she was met by only silence. "What's wrong, Adrien?" Her brows creased beneath her mask, and she gave his hands a light squeeze. "You can tell me, you know."

His shoulders rose and fell, unsteady as his breaths. "I'm just—" His voice cracked, and his grip on her hands tightened. "I was worried," he whispered, "that maybe you hate me."

For a second, Ladybug was speechless, as though someone had tossed a tub of cold water straight over her. " _Hate_ you?" she wheezed, and shook her head so fast she might've had whiplash if not for her powers. "Adrien, I could _never_ hate you!"

Adrien's eyes shot up, hope flickering within them. "You mean it? You're not, well"—he looked away, avoiding her stare as though afraid of what it might tell—" _disappointed_ it was me?"

"What?" That single word slid from her lips, soft and breathless. "No, not at _all_! Why would you even _think_ that?"

Did he really think so little of himself?

Adrien Agreste, famous fashion model.

Chat Noir, treasured superhero of Paris.

Her perfectly imperfect partner.

"I'm sorry." His voice, like his gaze, was soft with uncertainty. "I just… misread the way you acted last night." He looked away and pursed his lips, as though wrestling over his words. "I thought… maybe you were… mad at me? Or maybe…" He laughed, but the sound was tear-jerkingly hollow. "Well, let's just say Adrien Agreste isn't _half_ as cool as Chat Noir."

Her mouth hung open, a fog of disbelief falling over her eyes. "Isn't… half as…?" That fog soon scattered, and quiet determination dawned in its place. "Adrien, that's not true at _all_. I'm so sorry I made you _think_ that!"

Adrien flashed a smile. It was small, strained, as if hastily woven by a thread that had long since been stretched too thin.

It was his brave face, she realised.

An aching lump lodged itself in her throat. "Listen here, Kitty." She slid her hands from his and in an instant, her grip on his shoulders was as firm as her stare, demanding his full attention. "Tikki once told me when _I_ needed to hear it that with or without the suit, I _am_ Ladybug. And the same goes for you, Adrien. You _are_ Chat Noir, suit or no suit." Her voice was brimming with quiet affection as she continued, "You're kind… brave… determined… and you care _so_ _much_ about others. You're one of my dearest friends and every day, I _happily_ trust you with my life. I can _always_ rely on you—and not just when we're battling supervillains." She slid one hand from his shoulder to cup his cheek, and heard a soft breath suck in through his lips. "I was _so_ upset last week for leading Hawk Moth to Master Fu. If you hadn't been there to calm me down…"

Horrifying images sliced through her mind. Of her friends, their eyes yellow and empty, their identities exposed to that despicable Hawk Moth. Of that monstrous sentimonster, its stinger shattering through Master Fu's shield like it was made of glass.

All that suffering.

All because she'd _failed_.

But once more, her kitty was there, placing a hand atop the one that cupped his cheek… the one that now shook against his skin.

As always, he soothed her with his touch, with his warmth, with his presence. He stared into her eyes, and she into his, and those awful images vanished.

"You're amazing, Adrien," she whispered. "You're enough and _more_. So much more." Her other hand slid from his shoulder to cup his free cheek. "And your Miraculous does _not_ define you. _You_ define _it_."

Adrien stared at her, his body still and his eyes wide, as though her words hadn't quite sunk in yet.

But she knew the second they did.

She knew by the way he stood taller, lighter, like a wilted flower does after rain.

She knew by the unshed tears that had his eyes shimmering like precious emeralds.

She knew when he stepped but a breath away, and she felt the soft heat of his lips on her cheek, fuelling a fierce blush that no doubt matched her mask.

He held her hands in his, and his smile alone said a million thanks.

That didn't stop him from giving two more.

"Thank you, M'Lady." Somehow, his smile was both shaky and decisive at once. "Just, _thank you_."

And for the first time, Ladybug saw him.

Truly, deeply, clearly saw him.

Like storm clouds parting to reveal a bright summer's day, she looked at him and saw her partner... her friend... her silly, maskless kitty.

And she sensed he was starting to see himself the same way—as two halves of a wonderful whole.

Tears blurred her vision. She blinked and blinked and blinked again, if only to capture just another second of this moment—of his face and that joy and how perfectly it suited him. How she wished it was there every second of every day, pure and real and no less than he deserved.

Adrien tilted his head, a wry smile sneaking its way across his lips. "I'll furgive you, Bugaboo," he added, "for not mentioning my purrfect sense of humour."

She slid one hand from both of his and went to flick his bell. Upon realising it wasn't there, she found herself tapping his nose instead, and smiling at the way that made him chuckle. "I thought I'd leave at least _some_ of the belly-scratching to you."

A minute later—as she savoured her favourite cake with a now-transformed Chat Noir—Ladybug realised their patrol hadn't gone at all like she'd planned.

And she was purrfectly fine with that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I'm going through an "everything I write is potato" phase. Sadly, not the good kind. Hopefully my brain is just fried and I yam just exaggertating. Yeahhh, I'll see myself out. XD


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Previously, on You Times Two… Our infuriating bean's gone and done it now. He asked Kagami out. And our favourite superheroine, bless her heart, decided pursuing Luka isn't such a selfish idea, despite Mr Whisker's recent unveiling as Mr Hotstuff. But of course, the calm waves of clarity lasted for all of two seconds, when light-hearted Ladynoir dove down to ow-my-heart Ladrien. Our boy hasn't gotten his lady. And our bug's still without her kitty. But at least they had cake, and that's what truly matters. What will Sunshine Boy do with his lady's kind words? And how will our silly bug fare after that little moment they shared? Read on, my fellow Miraculers, and purrhaps you'll find out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am SO stoked by the amazing response the fifth chapter got! And how it even had some of you in tears! Wow! Your kind words basically slingshotted me outta my "everything I write feels like potato" phase. Haha! So thanks heaps, guys! :3

Adrien dove onto his bed, the springs squeaking beneath his weight. He felt five degrees warmer, like his joy was some tangible thing, its warmth spreading through his veins, right to his fingertips.

He whirled onto his back and gazed at the high ceiling, all too aware of the grin that filled his face. He'd bet all nine of his lives it'd been there for most of patrol, given the way his cheeks ached.

And boy, did he welcome the sensation.

It meant he wasn't dreaming.

 _Hadn't_ been dreaming.

Not when she'd cracked those purrfect puns.

Not when she'd said all those wonderful things.

Not when she'd accepted him, _all_ of him.

If somehow he _was_ dreaming, then clichés be damned, he _never_ wanted to wake up.

Adrien drummed his fingers against the silk sheets of his bed. As terrible as it sounded, he almost hoped for an akuma, for a way to unleash all this energy, for a chance to see her again.

For a chance to _be_ seen again.

Not as Adrien Agreste, the well-mannered model.

Not as Chat Noir, the boisterous superhero.

Just as _him_.

Loud chomps echoed off the marble tiles of his bathroom, where Plagg, of course, had taken up residence in a basket of dirty laundry.

"You're such a pig, Plagg," he called, rolling his eyes. "Are we not even gonna talk about what happened tonight?" Because, geez, he _needed_ to get this out of his system.

Plagg's tiny head popped out from a sea of clothes. "You wanna talk about tonight? You mean"—mirth coated his every word—"how you're keeping your options open, _Mr Heartbreaker_?"

Adrien lurched upright on his bed. "I – _What_?" His hands twisted around his sheets. "No way, Plagg." His voice sounded drier than two-week-old toast. "I'm… I have a date with Kagami tomorrow. I've ordered roses, booked a nice rooftop – _way_ harder than you'd think, by the way. It's all planned out!"

Plagg drifted over, half a wheel of Camembert clasped between his paws. "Oh please," he groaned, plonking his tiny butt on the mattress. "You just spent ten minutes smiling at the ceiling."

Adrien tensed, guilt writhing in his chest. "I – I wasn't—"

"This ain't my first rodeo, kid." He downed the rest of his cheese, and garbled, "I know a lovestruck kitty when I see one."

Adrien twisted his arms across his chest, a line forming between his brows. He was well aware that, just as there'd been other Ladybugs, there'd been other Chat Noirs. He didn't know much more than that, his main source of information being the Ladyblog. Plagg had never been the sentimental sort, after all.

Still, Plagg's words clung to his mind. Was he referring to a previous time he'd pined over Ladybug? Or perhaps a former black cat?

Adrien looked at his kwami, who'd since retrieved another wheel of Camembert from his minifridge. "Plagg, is this _normal_?"

Plagg looked up from his spot on the bed. "Huh?" He bit a big chunk of cheese off the wheel. "Whataya talking about?"

Adrien chewed the inside of his cheek. "Is it normal for Ladybug and Cat Miraculous Holders to… have… _love_ dramas, I guess?"

Plagg shrugged. "Ehh. It happens." He stretched across the bed, not unlike an actual cat, and dragged out a yawn. "It's not that surprising, really. Yin and yang. Opposites attract. That kinda stuff."

Adrien's eyes sunk to his sheets, and he absently smoothed any creases in sight.

Yin and yang…

When it came to relationships, Adrien had no basis for comparison. Still, he was familiar with the concept. If he wasn't, his Chinese tutor – a middle-aged man with a rather impressive moustache – would probably berate him to no end. The man often threw tidbits of Chinese history and culture into their one-on-one lessons.

Adrien gripped his chin, eyes drifting to the ceiling.

Come to think of it, Master Fu had mentioned the concept too, when he'd visited that Syren akuma.

" _Tell me, Adrien"—a smile slid across the Guardian's thin lips—"are you familiar with yin and yang?"_

_Adrien gazed at the container in his palms, filled with a rainbow of assorted cheeses. "I, uhh… Of course, Master." He looked up from the box, meeting Master Fu's gaze. "But… why do you ask?"_

_Master Fu reached for Adrien's hand, and grazed a wrinkled thumb across the surface of his ring. "One cannot exist without the other." His tone, like his face, turned solemn. "Always remember that."_

One cannot exist without the other…

Was that to say he and Ladybug were like yin and yang?

Push and pull?

Two halves of a whole?

He supposed that wasn't exactly inaccurate.

Ladybug creates, she takes the lead, and she's almost always careful.

Chat Noir destroys, he follows, and at times, he's reckless.

And of course, the comparisons flowed deeper still.

Adrien threw his legs over the side of the bed, elbows propped on his knees. "Opposites attract," he breathed to himself.

Plagg peered up from the cheese in his lap. "What was that?" he managed through a generous mouthful.

Adrien shook his head. "Never mind." His shoulders slumped.

Ladybug didn't share his feelings. If opposites really _did_ attract, shouldn't that be the case?

He frowned, taunted by words his kwami had uttered just minutes ago. As much as he hated to admit it, Plagg was right. He _was_ still gushing over Ladybug—but what was the point?

Yes, she was undoubtedly amazing.

Yes, she was one of his dearest friends.

Yes, she'd said all those lovely things to him.

But none of that changed the way she _felt_ about him, nor how she felt about that unnamed boy.

And it didn't change the fact he had a date with Kagami tomorrow.

Adrien pursed his lips. With thoughts like these running rampant in his mind, was it really so wise to be pursuing Kagami?

He hoisted himself off the bed, a strained sigh escaping his lips. "Plagg?"

"What's up, kid?" the kwami called, still lazing on the bed.

Adrien's hands curled into fists as he marched toward his open window. "I just – I need to think, that's all."

Plagg groaned, sagging into the mattress. "Don't tell me we're going out again?"

"You and I both know I think a lot better out there than I do in here." He held up his hand, his ring gleaming in the overhead lights. "Plagg, claws out!" In a flash of pale green, leather slid up Adrien's body—and instantly, he felt lighter, freer, _himself_.

His tail billowed behind him as he leaped into the window frame, and scanned the shimmering cityscape. A waxing moon hung above, its milky glow dimmed by the shadows of wandering clouds. And past the high, brick wall ahead, steel lampposts illuminated a quiet street, no spectators in sight.

With no destination in mind, Chat Noir vaulted off his window and into the Parisian night.

* * *

The drone of late-night traffic coated the cool, evening air, as Marinette spritzed her potted plants and hummed a merry tune. She'd been grinning like a goof since downing cake with her kitty. And boy, had it been nice – _wonderful_ , in fact – to just chill out, crack puns, and discuss mundane things.

His favourite meal was sausages with mashed potatoes, something his mother had often cooked before personal chefs came into the picture.

His favourite video game, to her surprise, wasn't Ultimate Mecha Strike III, but Mario Kart 8 Deluxe. And he'd claimed Rainbow Roads was his favourite track, to which she'd of course questioned his sanity.

As for his favourite subject, that spot went to Physics. He'd even considered making a career out of it (when she'd asked about his modelling, he'd merely said that wasn't where his passions lay).

He'd described his favourite colour as bluebell, specifically. And in the moments that followed, as Chat Noir had gazed into her eyes, her heart had transformed into a dancing candlewick, melting beneath the warmth of that… _utterly breath-taking smile_.

With a wistful sigh, Marinette crossed her arms atop her balcony railing, spray bottle still clutched between her fingers. Fortunately, he'd left _her_ to ask most of the questions. Her identity was still a secret and tonight, he'd seemed more or less okay with that.

She knew that wouldn't last. Her kitty was stubborn, something she was painfully aware of, and it was only a matter of time until talk of her identity resurfaced. After all, Chat _had_ made a fair point. What if something happened to her?

At that, memories of a fragmented moon flashed through her mind. What if she revealed her identity and something happened to _him_?

And what of Kagami? Adrien was clearly pursuing a relationship with her. Would unveiling herself as Ladybug come between that? Kagami was her friend, and as much as Marinette cared for Adrien, derailing what he had with Kagami wasn't really what she wanted.

No, she just wanted harmony.

And for Adrien to be happy.

Even if it wasn't with her.

Marinette heaved a sigh, slumping a little against the railing. Right now, she felt like the walking definition of "indecisive". With so many unknowns, how could she possibly make the right choice? What if she failed again and—

"Hello," came a hesitant murmur.

With a squeak, Marinette leaped back at record speed, juggling the spray bottle as though entangled in a game of hot potato. Once she had a steady grip on its handle, she lurched the plastic head toward the owner of that voice, finger on the trigger.

Green cat-eyes stared back at her, a flinch twisting the face of their owner.

She lowered her weapon, tension leaving her shoulders. "Chat Noir?"

He was perched on all fours atop a copper chimney cap. "Sorry, Marinette." He dropped to the balcony railing, just an arm's length away. "I didn't—"

"—mean to frighten me?" She offered a smile, one he returned in kind. "If I didn't know any better, I'd think you were doing this on purpose."

He chuckled. "This cat's not one for preying on mice. Promise." The slightest smirk he wore had her anticipating one of his infamous jests. "Speaking of which, that was quite the high-pitched squeak you did there." His smirk widened. "Purrhaps I should call you Mari _mouse_ from now on?"

She rolled her eyes. "It was _one_ freak-out." Granted, her kitty had borne witness to a great many of her freak-outs… but _he_ didn't know she knew that.

He snickered. "Well, I was also inspired by how you're Multimouse."

" _Was_ Multimouse."

A faint chuckle was the only answer Chat gave her. With perfect poise, he seated himself atop the balcony railing, one leg drawn to his chest, the other dangling over the edge. He seemed to be getting comfortable. Did he plan to stay a while?

Marinette's mind drifted months into the past, and her smile grew. To think, it had been _Adrien_ who'd dropped by her balcony that night. _Adrien_ who'd gone out of his way to cheer her up. _Adrien_ who'd confided in her about his love troubles.

That fact was ironic and sweet in equal measure.

Or maybe one part ironic, _two_ parts sweet?

One part ironic, _three_ parts sweet?

Or—

No, if she didn't stop now, she probably never would.

Marinette pressed her lips together, if only to bite back a laugh.

"So," Chat started, "it's a little late to be watering plants, isn't it?"

She didn't miss the slight, playful lilt in his voice. In fact, it had her lips quirking up at the corners. She set the bottle down on a weather-worn table and gripped her hips. "It's a little late to be scaring the pants off of unsuspecting girls, isn't it?"

He gave her a once-over, then flashed a smirk. "Speaking of which, nice pyjamas."

Marinette tensed, stealing a glance at her sleepwear. Of course, she'd reached for the dark blue ones with silhouettes of yellow cats. She jutted her nose into the air. "Just so you know, I got these _before_ you came along."

"So, you like cats, huh?" His smirk stretched with his next words, " _Cat_ say I blame you." He winked.

She groaned despite the grin that had slapped itself on her face. "What're you even _doing_ here, Chat Noir?" With folded arms, she leaned against the railing and looked up at him. "Don't you have, like, more important things to do?"

Chat shrugged. "Nah. Not really." He stared skyward, any amusement now gone from his face. "I had some stuff on my mind and…" His eyes sunk to his leather-clad lap, a sigh sliding through his lips. "Let's just say, this cat hates being locked up with his thoughts."

Thoughts?

 _What_ thoughts?

Had Ladybug not reassured him as much as she'd believed?

Such questions lingered near the fringes of her mind, but prying answers out of him wasn't her place. Or rather, it wasn't _Marinette's_ place.

"So," she drawled instead, "is this becoming, like… a _regular_ thing? Late night visits to my balcony?"

Chat straightened where he sat. "Sorry." He reached for his staff, tucked above his tail. "I – I can—"

"No!" Marinette gripped his wrist before he could draw his staff, and he blinked down at her. "I didn't mean it like that. Really."

His eyes left hers, trailing the length of her arm to fall on her hand, still around his wrist.

Suddenly, she was all too aware of the wild hammering in her chest. Clearing her throat, she pulled that hand to her side, heat prickling her ears. "You're _always_ welcome here, Chat Noir."

Chat smiled, resettling in his makeshift seat atop the railing. "Thanks, Marinette." He gazed at her, a familiar softness in his smile; one that slowly made its way to his eyes. "You're pretty great, y'know that?"

Marinette stared into those eyes—green, green, green—as vibrant as early spring. "So you are," she breathed, then shot ramrod straight. "I – I mean, _so are you_. I mean, it's – uh – the least I can do for – um – one of Paris' superheroes." She giggled, as strained as it was, and he gave a little chuckle in turn.

As a soothing silence washed over them, Marinette was reminded of the quiet, comforting lulls that often took place on their patrols, and her lips quirked up of their own accord. She glanced at her partner to find his sight set on some unseen thing. Whatever he was watching, the distance in his eyes showed he wasn't truly seeing it. Did being here, on her balcony, somehow help him to think?

She supposed that made sense. Being up here certainly helped whenever _she_ had something on _her_ mind.

"So," Marinette drawled, "did you, uhh… wanna talk about what's bothering you?"

He continued to stare into the distance. "It's… kinda complicated."

"Oh. Um – Fair enough." She managed a smile. "It's your private business and that's _totally_ fine."

"No, it's not like that." He looked at her, his fingers laced around the steel fencing on which he sat. "It's just… kinda hard to explain, is all."

"Well, I've got time if you wanna give it a try." His eyes dropped, and hers followed the path they took. Only then did she realise her hand was atop his own, as though her inner-Ladybug had taken over, hoping to comfort her partner. She pulled it to her chest, red flushing her cheeks. "That is, uhh – maybe everything will make a little more sense – you know – if you put it into words?" She cleared her throat. "I mean, doing that helps _me_ sometimes."

Chat bit his lower lip, something she shouldn’t have found so darn adorable during their current conversation. "I just… I guess, uhh…" He looked away, shrinking into his shoulders. "After what happened with Weredad, I… don't wanna make you uncomfortable with my"—he mumbled his next words—"love problems."

Marinette stilled. "Wait," she blurted out, "you're upset about _love_ stuff?"

But wasn't he pursuing Kagami?

Oh no. Had her advice failed?

Wouldn't be the first time…

Or the second…

Or the—

"Sorry." He stooped his head low, his blond bangs skimming his mask. "Love stuff's probably all I ever seem to talk about, huh?"

"No, it's fine," she insisted, with a frantic wave of her hands. "Really. I mean, love is, umm… _complicated_ like that."

"Yeah, tell me about it."

Marinette caught herself reaching for his hand again; the moment she realised, she reached for one of her pigtails instead. "And, umm – forget about Weredad. I'm totally past that. Promise." She re-propped her arms atop the railing, if only to stop herself from reaching for him _again_. "If you wanna talk, I'm all ears!"

Chat pursed his lips, his eyes travelling across the darkened sky, where stars glittered like soft flicks from a paintbrush. "Well, you see"—he spared a glance her way—"I'm kinda seeing this girl. She's smart, brave, really pretty. Strong-minded too." The makings of a smirk tugged at his lips. "Actually, she's a lot like Ladybug." He huffed with amusement. "Is that bad?" A rhetorical question, it seemed, as he gave her no time to even dwell on it. "We're not official yet, but she thinks we are and… well…" That tiny smirk vanished. Instead, his shoulders sagged in time with his tail.

Marinette's brows gathered. After more than a year of akuma-fighting alongside her kitty, reading his body language was usually kitten's play. Now was no exception. "It almost seems like… you don't _want_ to be official?"

His cat-ears drooped. "I don't know. I mean, I _thought_ I did, but… you know how I feel about Ladybug."

A gasp lodged itself in her throat.

Oh no. This was about this evening, wasn't it?

It _had_ to be.

But God, he'd just been so terribly down on himself and she'd _needed_ to put a stop to it. _Confusing_ him hadn't been her intention. Quite the opposite!

Chat's sigh thrust her from those thoughts. "I know she's in love with someone else. She has every right to be. It's just… hard, y'know?" This time, when he huffed, she got the sense it was from self-frustration more than anything else. "I keep thinking I'm getting over her”—he threw a hand through his mussed locks—"but then I see her at patrol and suddenly, it's like I'm falling for her all over again."

Marinette stared at her partner, a sharp pang in her heart.

She hated how true those same words rang for her; hated how she couldn't just _tell_ him; hated how fiercely she wanted to.

But damn it, she _couldn't_. Not like this, for personal gain.

Yes, she returned his feelings – understatement of the century – and sure, revealing her identity and announcing her ginormous crush could fix Adrien's entire dilemma—but unveiling herself over something like _this_? That wasn't a guardian thing to do at all.

No, she'd just be cracking open a heaping _silo_ of worms, and making _more_ mistakes was something she just could not risk!

Once again, Chat continued, completely unaware of the frantic turn her thoughts had taken. "The second I saw Ladybug tonight, everything else just… melted away. It _always_ does." His words were tender, brimming with affection, yet there was this heart-jerking ache about them. "She said such wonderful things to me, _about_ me. I thought I was gonna _explode_."

Marinette pursed her lips—partly to hide the way they quivered, partly to stifle a strangled cry of – of _what_ , exactly?

Joy?

Guilt?

Frustration?

Or perhaps desperation?

Was _this_ what he'd meant about exploding?

"She—" Chat's voice cracked. "She even told me I was _enough_. No. _More_ than enough." A ghost of a smile eased across his lips. "I don't think anyone's told me that since…" He chuckled, though it was harrowingly hollow. "Well, it's, uhh... been a long time."

Marinette was sure his grip on the railing had tightened. And was it a trick of the light or was he tearing up? He looked her way and the moment their eyes met, she had her answer. Just when she'd thought he couldn't tug her heartstrings any harder, the shaky smile he revealed proved her horribly wrong.

God, she _hated_ this! All the lies and the secrets. The tiptoeing and half-truths.

It just wasn't fair. _None_ of it.

Not on him.

Not on her.

They were a _team_.

How could they be their best with something so suffocating in the way?

Tears glossed her vision and suddenly, Chat Noir was no more than a flurry of shapes and colours. She looked away, avoiding his gaze, and smeared tears from her eyes with the back of a trembling hand.

“Oh no…”

Marinette heard faint steps upon wood. He must’ve swept from the railing to his feet.

“Did – Did _I_ do that?" His hands eased onto her bare shoulders, their warmth radiating through her skin despite the leather gloves. "Marinette, I'm _so_ sorry!"

How?

Just… Just _how_?

How was he so kind and selfless and utterly beautiful?

How could he suffer so silently, yet still find the strength to give others so much of himself?

Had she been transformed, she might've tackled her kitty in a fervid embrace. Her fingers twitched, yearning to pull him close, to comfort him as much as he did her, to give something of herself for once.

Instead, her jaw clamped in place as she fought back a guttural sob, and threw him the most convincing smile she could muster. "No, _no_ ," Marinette insisted, rubbing her reddening eyes. "It's not you. I'm just – Uh. The wind's a bit cold, that's all." She pointed up, as though the wind was some tangible thing. "It just – um – made my eyes sting. You know how those pesky breezes can be on your peepers!"

Chat rushed his hands up and down her bare arms. "I'm _so_ sorry, Marinette." He scanned her balcony, as though hoping for a blanket to appear from thin air. "This suit sort of acts like a wind-protector, so I—"

"It's okay, Chat," said Marinette, a smile painting her lips. "I'll just consider this an excuse to have hot chocolate before bed."

He stilled at those words, and that soft smile was back—so Adrien, so Chat Noir, so _him_. "Well, when you put it like _that_." His smile spread. "Anyway, I should probably be going." His hands slid from her shoulders, one withdrawing his staff. "That hot chocolate of yours won't brew itself." He winked, and on light feet, took two steps toward the far end of her balcony.

"Chat Noir!"

Marinette grabbed his hand, and he stilled instantly, those green eyes watching her from over one shoulder. She pursed her lips, staring at her bare feet. "Umm… About this love stuff…" Warmth spread up her fingers, and she realised she hadn't released his hand. Her eyes reunited with his, pink grazing her cheeks, and she pulled her hand to her chest. "This – uh – might come as a surprise"—her insides writhed at the agonising truth of her next words—"but believe me, I know _just_ how you feel."

Shock dusted his eyes. "You… You _do_?"

Marinette nodded, the movement slow and rather stiff. "So there are these two really smart, really kind, really cute guys – both amazing in their own special ways – and, well"—warmth crept across her face—"I really care about _both_ of them, but I guess… deciding between them is like pulling teeth – _worse_ than that, even." Her lips quaked. "It's just _hard_ ," she whispered, her brows furrowing. " _Really_ hard."

Chat faced her completely, another smile gracing his full lips. "They're really lucky, you know"—her heart picked up the pace, throbbing madly in her eardrums—"to have a girl as amazing as _you_ caring so much about them."

Had…

Had Adrien just said…

Marinette pinched her wrist, and the fleeting pain that brought with it had her choking back a squeal. "I – Uh —" Her mouth opened and closed as though she'd been born a goldfish. "Tha – Thank you," she eventually stammered, before sucking in a slow breath.

If she didn't keep her cool, she might do something stupid.

Like shatter his eardrums with a squeal.

Or call him Adrien.

Maybe kiss him.

No no no _no_.

That train of thought needed to stop _pronto_!

What… were they talking about again?

Remembrance flashed in her eyes. "But, uhh – about those girls." Her fingers drummed against her clothed thighs, the silk material smooth against her skin. "Those girls being – um – Ladybug and – uh – unnamed, mystery girl." She cleared her throat. "I'm sure they both care _a lot_ about you, but at the end of the day, you've gotta do what's right for you." Her smile came easily, something she was immensely grateful for. "So, Chat, I say go for the girl that makes you happy."

He closed the gap between them, and Marinette hoped he wouldn't notice the goosebumps that blanketed her skin. If he _did_ , she was totally blaming the wind again.

Of course, his hands found their way back to her shoulders. "Thank you, Marinette." He gazed into her eyes, and she wondered how a stare could possibly be so soft and intense at once. "You've helped me far more than you'll probably ever know."

Oh, the irony. It only powered the smile that lined her lips. "It was the least I could do," she said, echoing words he'd spoken all those months ago. By the look in his eyes, Chat seemed to understand.

He took two soundless steps back, extending his staff. "All right. I should probably _scat_ before you get hypo _purr_ mia."

Marinette snorted. "I think that second pun might've been _paw_ shing it." She held her thumb and index finger parallel to each other and added, "Just a _litter_ bit."

Chat stuck out his tongue. Like, _actually_ _stuck out his tongue_. And Marinette wasn't sure if she'd _ever_ seen him do that—in _or_ out of the mask. "Thanks, Marimouse"—he showed a smirk and a two-fingered salute—"for being such a _pawsome_ _furend_."

Why did she get the feeling he'd made those last two puns just to tease her?

He leaped onto the balcony railing, beaming when he glanced back at her. "Have a great evening, okay?" With a chuckle, he rubbed the nape of his neck. "And enjoy that hot chocolate!"

"Enjoy your evening too," she said with a wave. "And don't be a stranger, okay?"

With a nod and another of his classic, heart-warming smiles, Chat Noir leaped off the railing. The whir of his stick slowly faded, and Marinette watched as that unmistakable silhouette jumped from building to building, the light of nearby lampposts bouncing off his leather suit.

Only once he'd disappeared into the night did Tikki emerge, floating up to her face to nuzzle her cheek. With one finger, Marinette rubbed her kwami's tiny head. "Thanks, Tikki." She stared after her kitty and heaved a lengthy sigh. "What am I gonna do?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And so the final part of the love square enters the fray! ;D I just wanna give another massive THANK YOU to my wonderful beta-reader, [writeringoodfaith](https://archiveofourown.org/users/writeringoodfaith/pseuds/writeringoodfaith). I got the nickname "Marimouse" from her and she got it from [readerbonafide](https://www.fanfiction.net/u/11522752/Readerbonafide). Thanks, guys! :) Anywho, I hope you all have a lovely remainder of your day! :3


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Previously, on You Times Two… In a startling twist of events, our dear, sweet boy realised he's not at all over Ladybug. (Who would've thought?) In search of open skies to tackle his racing thoughts, Kitty Noir somehow found himself on our favourite girl's balcony. With a delicious stroke of irony, our adorkable duo traded tidbits about their love lives. And before our wee cat in black left her balcony, his Very Good Friend imparted a few words of wisdom: Go for the girl that makes you happy. Will Golden Boy heed her advice? Or will he continue down this dangerous path? Read on to find out!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Doth thy eyes deceive thee? Huzzah, I'm finally updating! I'm so sorry for the delay and the super long ANs (at the start and the end, oops). I just have a lot to touch on this time around! ;D
> 
> I like to be open and honest with you guys, so here's the down-low on why this update took a month and a half. Basically (okay, maybe not so basically) with what's going on in the world, I was laid off from my main job not long after YTT's last update and my anxiety wasn't doing so hot. I was initially job-searching, but as it turns out, I've been offered the role of a duty manager at my part-time job, so that's gonna become my full-time job. Things are slowly falling into place and for that I am immensely grateful. After all, there are others who are enduring far worse right now. To all of you guys, I want to send out my best wishes! We're only halfway through 2020 and it's already been a rough one, but here's hoping the grass is much greener on the other side :) xxx
> 
> Due to the delay of this chapter, I just want to let you guys know I have absolutely every intention of completing this story. Seriously, I have many exciting plans for it and I am SO eager to share them all. So if an update is ever taking a while, know that there IS one coming. Life's probably just getting in the way or perhaps I'm really fussing over the chapter. Sometimes both. I'm a perfectionist and will rewrite and rewrite and rewrite until I get it write. (Ba dum tss!)
> 
> Finally, please enjoy the update! :D

Adrien shifted on his bedroom sofa, the leather squeaking against his boxer briefs. After an awful sleep, he'd often drag himself from bed at first light. This morning was no exception. For three hours straight, he'd twisted his ring, stared out the window and admired the striking sunrise.

Golds, blues and pinks had danced across the Parisian sky, a reminder of that one time he'd tried out watercolour painting. It'd been a hobby of his mother's—one she'd been so patient, so supportive, so eager to teach him.

He'd been hopeless.

At ten, he'd been vaguely aware of that fact. Now, at nearly fifteen, Adrien was certain. He just hadn't inherited his parents' creative eye, and had immense respect for anyone patient enough to craft something with their bare hands.

Thoughts of a specific individual – and the advice she'd given him – flitted through his head for maybe the fifth time that morning. "Go for the girl that makes you happy," he breathed, a line etching between his brows.

Ladybug obviously made him happy. She was his partner, a beacon of joy in his life. Their bond was unparalleled, and their exchange last night had only reaffirmed his feelings for her, of that he couldn't deny. There was just one problem: she was in love with someone else. Was it really fair of him to keep his sights set on her?

His history with Kagami didn't run nearly as deep, but there'd certainly been a spark from day one. She'd enthralled him with her confidence, her beauty, and she related to the pressures that came with a protective parent and a family name to uphold—but did _she_ make him happy?

Adrien planned to officialise things on their date tonight. Or rather, that _had_ been his plan.

Honestly, he didn't know anymore.

He tipped his head into his awaiting palms, a groan rumbling in his throat. Being the son of Gabriel Agreste meant he was painfully accustomed to having no say. His father controlled his schedule, his conduct, his appearance, _everything_. Now, his relationship status was being controlled—and the most surprising thing at this point was that his father wasn't responsible.

If he officialised things with Kagami tonight, would that decision be driven by the desire to be with her? Or by a sense of obligation? What was the alternative? Tell her he hadn't thought they _were_ official and wasn't entirely sure that he _wanted_ them to be?

A melodramatic yawn stole Adrien's attention. He glanced right to find Plagg slothfully sprawled across the white sofa armrest, rounder from a morning spent gorging on artisan cheese. "As much as I'd love to laze around here all day," Plagg droned, "don't you have a get together to, y'know, _get_ to?"

Oh no! Was it _that_ late already?!

He was Kagami's ride and an Agreste was _never_ late.

Adrien spent the next twenty-two minutes scurrying around his room, flinging clothes, styling his hair, ordering breakfast to go.

Plagg floated by, defiling the air with a rancid, cheesy burp. "Don't forget my camem—"

"Cologne!" He dashed toward the bathroom. "Thanks for the reminder!" Of course, his kwami then felt the need to list the many perks of smelling like cheese. (He ignored them all.)

Finally, Adrien was outside the Agreste Mansion, thanking The Gorilla for holding the passenger door open. He tossed his bag into the backseat of the bulletproof sedan, the familiar scent of leather lingering, and—

"Adrien," came an unmistakable voice.

When he spun half a circle, his shoulders squared, he was unsurprised to find a pair of pale blue eyes staring down at him. The owner of those eyes loomed from the front steps, his glasses glinting in the sunlight and his body framed by the imposing double doors of the mansion.

Gabriel threaded his fingers behind his back. "I've noticed some rather… excessive purchases you've made of late." His voice was level, as always. "One hundred and fifty euros on flowers? Double that on a rooftop venue?"

Adrien could've kicked himself for being so forgetful. His father had always kept a close eye on his bank account, something he felt was a little unnecessary.

" _You're a careless teenager,"_ Gabriel had once claimed. _"If you throw your money around frivolously, I need to know."_

Thanks to his modelling, Adrien's savings were steadily climbing, and he'd never made much of a dent in them. It's not like he could get out of the house to even do so. In fact, his money mostly went to Ladybug merch and funnily enough, his father never questioned that.

His head dipped beneath the heightening weight of that scrutinising stare. "I've… organised dinner with a friend tonight." He fiddled with the cuff of his jet-black dress shirt, which peeked out from beneath the ironed sleeve of a white, fitted blazer.

"A rather extravagant dinner for a _friend_ , don't you think?" His father cocked his head. "I've seen the news articles of your so-called relationship with Miss Tsurugi. Are they true?"

Adrien peered up from the ground, barely making eye contact. "She's"—of course, his voice cracked—"not my girlfriend."

"But I take it this dinner is for her?"

He managed a nod. "Yes, Father."

Gabriel frowned. Or rather, his perpetual frown deepened. "You should've consulted me before making such plans. Tomoe Tsurugi is one of my most valued partners. I don't wish to see that compromised."

Adrien's polished dress shoes scuffed the pavement with each fidget of his feet. "I'm sorry, Father." It took him far longer than it should've to meet that stare. "Should I… cancel?"

"This once, I will allow it."

Adrien expected the gratifying warmth of relief to wash over him. Instead, quiet apprehension crept in. Had he been _hoping_ for an excuse to cancel the date?

"But," Gabriel added, "I expect you to tread carefully with Ms Tsurugi's daughter. Cleaning up the tabloids after you make a mess is _not_ an effective use of my time." Pale eyes snapped to The Gorilla, who stood in wait on the driver's side of Adrien's ride. "Your bodyguard will pick you up from the venue at eight o'clock. No later. Do _not_ push my good graces again."

Adrien pasted on his model smile. "Thank you, Father." He spun on his heel, ready to slip into the backseat of his ride, when a sudden thought had him re-facing the mansion.

Gabriel was just beyond the doorway that led to the opulent lobby, his white-suited back to Adrien.

"Father?"

Gabriel spared him an over the shoulder glance.

"I've been meaning to ask," he called, his tone now light and laced with hope, "how's Nathalie doing? I've hardly seen her all week?"

Gabriel surprised him with a smile, slight as it was. "She's improving. Slowly, but surely."

"I'm glad she's getting better. I've missed having her around." He met his father's gaze completely. "Will you tell her that?"

Gabriel gave a single nod, his smile remaining. With an echoing thud, the double doors shut behind him, and Adrien slid into the backseat of his lavish ride.

* * *

Spindly trees lined the cobbled street, their russet leaves rustling overhead, as Marinette scrambled down the sidewalk. "Gonna be late! Gonna be _late_!" It was a mantra she'd started two streets back, when she'd charged out of the bakery, a warm carton in hand. She still felt awful for nearly bowling over that elderly man—

"Marinette!" came Tikki's panicked voice.

She screeched to a halt at a pedestrian crossing, just as a car zoomed past and turned left. "Gosh! Thanks, Tikki!" Her eyes shot between the kwami in her purse and the pole across the street, where a tiny man glowed red. "I almost became roadkill!"

Tikki's brows creased. "You really need to be more careful!"

Another tiny man now glowed green up ahead, and Marinette raced over the crossing. "Yeah, I know. I'm sorry for scaring you." She flipped open the carton, the sweet scent of macarons filling her senses. "Here." Tikki's face brightened as she slipped a brown one in her purse. "Consider it a thank you for being my eyes half the time."

The kwami smirked. "Only _half_ the time?"

Marinette giggled, while Tikki seated herself in the purse and took a tiny bite. "Delicious," she said, crumbs dusting her lips. "Your dad would be proud!"

She smiled her kwami's way. "Let's hope my friends think so too—"

A familiar voice called out her name, and her eyes shot up from her purse to be greeted by the warmth of another's. A breath caught in her throat. The owner of those eyes whirred by in a flash of yellow and teal. Was that Luka?

She looked over her shoulder, staring after the passing bike.

Her feet tangled mid-step.

She stumbled forward, her arms flailing, and the carton slipped through her fingers. Colliding with the concrete wasn't half as painful as the thud of thin cardboard on the sidewalk. Macarons scattered. One even had the audacity to roll right past her face, off the curb and under the wheel of a passing car. Her left eye twitched. Her lower lip followed. Then, she slumped against the pavement, a self-pitying groan squeezing up her throat.

So much for them remaining intact.

Luka's bike clattered on the sidewalk, guitar chords cutting through the air, his shoes pounding on concrete. "Marinette! Are you all right?" His black nail polish caught the sunlight as he settled his hands on her shoulders and eased her to her knees. "You're not hurt, are you?"

Their eyes met. And just like that, a blush crept up her neck. Not from embarrassment. Never from embarrassment. At least, not around Luka. His presence was soothing like that.

No, her blush had another source.

Concern coated every inch of those teal eyes, framed by bangs the very same shade. His hands were still on her shoulders, their warmth seeping through her cardigan as he held her.

Just like the warmth of gloved hands on her balcony… hands that had swept goosebumps from her bare arms, shielding her from the cold.

His gloves were made of leather. His claws were razor sharp. Yet, his hands on her skin—they'd been so gentle, so comforting, so _warm_.

They always were.

But so were Luka's.

"Marinette?"

When she blinked back to the present, Marinette was sure her whole face had flushed scarlet. She threw him her most convincing smile. "I – I'm fine. Yeah. _Totally_ fine." His sigh of relief wasn't lost on her. "Sorry, I was completely spaced out when you called and I—" Her eyes flew wide. "The macarons!" She scanned the treats that scattered the sidewalk, plucked one off the ground, and her shoulders sagged. "What a _disaster_."

"Don't worry," Luka piped up beside her, eyes smiling. "Not all of them ended up on the ground." He flourished the carton toward her, five macarons wobbling within it. "Besides, I'm happy to eat the ones that did if no one else will."

Of course, he would. "Thanks, Luka!" It was then that she spied a yellow smoosh near her foot. "Passionfruit!" Her hands flew to her scalp, eyes darting about the sidewalk. "Are they all on the ground?!"

"You mean the yellow ones?" Luka glanced at the carton, then back at her. "No, there are still a few in here."

Time slowed, all else fading to black as she laid eyes upon those three macarons. So help her, she would guard those bad boys with her _life_.

Luka chuckled. "With your life?"

She froze. Had she said that out loud?

"The passionfruit ones must be delicious if you're willing to go _that_ far."

Marinette tugged at her cardigan collar. "Uh – _Yeah_. They're very special. I mean – err – _delicious_. They're _very_ delicious."

In a matter of moments, Luka had helped her to collect the stray macarons. (And as it turned out, the paper lining in the carton made a decent divider between the tainted and untainted ones.)

Marinette beamed up at him, the carton clutched in one hand as she dusted her pants with her other. "Thanks for your help, Luka. And sorry I'm such a clutz." She held up the carton. "Why don't you try one? You can tell me what you think of them."

One look at his eager smile had her heart thrumming fast in her chest. He reached for a macaron on the tainted side. A yellow one. Luka's eyes slid shut as he took his first bite. "Wow." His eyes opened a second later, and he downed the rest of the macaron in one go. "The flavours. The texture. They make the perfect harmony. It's incredible." He met her gaze. "Just like you."

Her breath hitched as she scanned every inch of his smile—so warm and fond and… and she should probably be making words happen right now. "Tha – Thanks, Luk- _uka_." That counted as words, right? "Hopefully everyone else—" A gasp shot from her lips, her face twisting in horror. "Oh no, I'm _late_!"

Luka gathered his guitar from the sidewalk. "If you like, I can give you a lift." He scooped up his bike, nestled the instrument in the front basket and retrieved a yellow helmet from that same basket, extending it to her. "I've got a few deliveries near Alya's anyway. And it's probably a safer mode of transport for your macarons."

"Well, you're not wrong there." She tucked the carton under one arm and accepted the helmet. "Marinette Airways is neither fast nor safe." (Fortunately, the Ladybug Express made up for that.) She plonked on the helmet, but struggled as the strap proved stubborn to adjust.

"Here." Luka worked his magic and she tried not to linger on the fingertips that brushed her jawline.

Soon enough, she was holding onto him like a fuzzless koala, as they zoomed down the narrow street, bound for Alya's apartment.

* * *

Adrien tugged at the strap of his shoulder bag as he rounded the sleek sedan. He reached for the car door handle, Kagami's silhouette shifting behind the tinted glass. "Careful." Their fingers threaded together as he guided her onto the sidewalk, familiar clogs wrapped around her feet. "I know how tricky those things are to walk in."

Kagami quirked a brow.

He released her hand to click the car door shut behind them. "That is"—he dipped his chin—"I've, uhh… seen a few photoshoots end in stumbles and sprains thanks to them."

"I never stumble."

Adrien shook his head, smiling. Kagami certainly wasn't wrong. There was an irrefutable grace in the way she moved, rivalled only by a certain little bug—but today was about Kagami, not Ladybug! And this morning, his father had expressed his views quite clearly.

Adrien refused to mess this up. He couldn't disappoint his father. And he _wouldn't_ disappoint Kagami.

As their ride rolled off, he found himself admiring her outfit. "You look really nice." Her grandmother's shoes were accompanied by a black and red jumpsuit, her waist cinched by a white belt. He recognised it from the movie premiere. She'd looked nice then, too.

The corner of her mouth lifted. "As do you, Adrien," she said, the pink sheen of her lips catching the sunlight. Was she wearing makeup today? Or did she always look that pretty?

Out the corner of his eye, Adrien glimpsed bubblegum pink. Those pants were as familiar as their owner, who was perched upon the seat of a bright yellow bike, behind Luka. The wind weaved through her pigtails, poking out from beneath her helmet.

Adrien clutched Kagami's hand, his face alight. "Look! It's Marinette!" He launched his free hand in the air, waving their way.

Marinette threw back a cheery wave of her own. "Hey, Adrien, Kagami," she called down the street, her words a little muffled by the hum of a passing car.

The bike eased to a stop in front of them, and Adrien watched as she untwined her arms from around Luka's waist. Had they been riding like that the whole time? His brows furrowed. Maybe it was safer than it looked?

She scooched off the seat. "So, are you guys excited for—" Her left foot met the pavement, but before her right could join it, she lost her footing and stumbled forward.

A gasp lodged itself in Adrien's throat. He lunged forward, his free hand outstretched and ready to catch her.

Luka beat him to it.

Pretty impressive—he was still on his bike, after all. He'd planted his left foot, enclosed in his signature converse, firmly on the sidewalk, while his right remained on the bike pedal.

Adrien blinked, his eyes widening, as Luka's fingers took their time travelling from Marinette's shoulders to rest on his handlebars.

She beamed up at her saviour. "Thank you, Luka."

"Ye- _ah_." Adrien's voice cracked. After a brief clear of his throat, he tried again. "Nice reflexes!"

"Hello, Marinette," said Kagami, and he was reminded of the warm hand he still held. Her focus turned to Luka, her dark bob swaying with the movement. "It's nice to see you again."

"Always a pleasure, Kagami!" Luka's lips lifted. "You too, Adrien," he acknowledged with a nod of his head.

Adrien returned the nod. "I didn't know you'd be coming." Everyone went silent, Kagami shot him a side glance, and his lips curled to one side. Had he said something wrong?

Marinette spoke up first. "Oh! Um." She pressed her pointer fingers together. "Did I forget to mention that?" Her eyes jumped between his and the ground. "Sorry, it's been a crazy week and my brain's a bit—"

"No no, Marinette. Don't apologise!" Adrien rubbed at the nape of his neck. "It's cool that you're joining us, Luka!"

And it was.

He seemed like an awesome guy. There was a reason Adrien had picked him to wield a Miraculous, after all.

Luka nodded toward the yellow box on the back of his bike. "I just have to get through my shift first." He glanced between his three companions. "I haven't played many video games, but I'm looking forward to spending time with everyone."

"Don't worry, Luka." Marinette's pink-dusted cheeks puffed up as she smiled his way, and pulled a double thumbs up. "You'll be a pro in no time!"

"Definitely!" Adrien coaxed his hand from Kagami's to give his own double thumbs up. "With Marinette's help, you'll be a gaming champ before the day is over."

Pleasant memories filled his mind. Puns, deep-and-meaningfuls and her amazing advice.

Last night, Adrien had leaped from one slated roof to the next as though on autopilot. When he'd glimpsed his classmate from afar, tending to her rooftop plants, his legs had carried him the rest of the way of their own volition. And boy, was he thankful for that.

Clad in his catsuit, he'd told Marinette she'd helped him far more than she'd probably ever know. And well, he hadn't been exaggerating when he'd said those two boys, whoever they were, were lucky she cared so much about them.

Clearly, Luka was one of those boys. It was obvious by the way she beamed at him.

So who was the other?

Did he know him?

Kagami leaned in close, her arms looping around his bicep. "Shall we head upstairs, Adrien?"

"—hate to be responsible for any cold pizzas," Luka was saying, his sights still set on Marinette. "Speaking of which"—his hand dipped into the box behind his bicycle seat—"these are under Alya's name." He procured a stack of three pizza boxes, his hands splayed beneath them.

Kagami's arms slipped from Adrien's bicep as he stepped forward. "Thanks, Luka. I'll take them off your hands." As he did just that, the tantalising aroma of spicy pepperoni teased his tastebuds. "We'll be sure to save a few slices for you."

Marinette plucked a carton from the basket latched to the front of Luka's bike, and Adrien heard something – or rather, _several_ somethings – rattling around inside it. "And, of course"—she brandished the carton between two petite hands—"we'll be sure to save you some macarons!" She winked at Luka.

Adrien's stomach clenched. Maybe the sandwich he'd downed on the drive here hadn't filled him up. Though to be fair, the Dupain-Cheng macarons were so good they'd make a stuffed stomach grumble.

With a laugh, Luka pushed off the pavement and his bike rolled into motion. "See you all around three, then!" And with that, he was off.

Adrien's sights shifted between Kagami and Marinette. "Shall we?" With his hands preoccupied by the pizza boxes, he instead nudged his head toward the square-pillared entrance of an aged apartment complex, five stories high and built with weather-worn bricks.

To his side, Kagami's clogs clicked on the sidewalk as they approached an iron gate. And Marinette, two steps ahead, tapped on her phone as she shouldered the gate aside. "It's never locked," she said, as they passed by a row of beige mailboxes, fixed to the wall in the entrance corridor. "I'll let Alya know we're here with the pizzas."

He heard the phone ring twice, then Alya's voice blared through the speaker.

"Hey, M! Let me guess. Your gerbil ate your favourite sweater and your lucky socks have done a runner?"

Marinette snorted, something he wasn't sure he'd ever heard her do. "For your information," she announced, slapping her free hand to her hip, "it'd be a _hamster_ , not a gerbil. We've been through this. And I'll have you know I'm right downstairs. Adrien and Kagami are here, too."

"Come again?" Amusement was thick in Alya's voice. "My phone must be acting up 'cause it almost sounded like you said you're downstairs. As in, _on time_."

"Yes. Thanks, Captain Obvious, for your keen observation."

"What can I say? It's the journalist in me."

Marinette glanced between him and Kagami, a cheeky smirk sliding across her rosy lips. "Say, guys. We've got _three_ free pizzas. That's one whole pizza _each_. What say we backtrack to Places des Vosges to eat these bad boys _without_ Alya's help?"

Despite her threats, she led them through a nearby door, into an artificially lit stairwell, and they commenced their five-storey climb—with her up front and Kagami beside him.

"Did you hear that, babe? My girl's threatening to deprive you of your margherita pizza—"

"What?!" came Nino's muffled outcry, followed by the rushed thumps of footsteps. "I dipped into my savings to get triple cheese!" He was louder now; probably right beside Alya. "She can't _do_ this to me!"

Marinette stole a glance back at him and Kagami as they trekked up the stairs. Her lips were pursed and by the twinkle in her eye, she must've been biting back laughter. He couldn't help but grin to himself. He kind of liked her being sassy like this.

"Oh, my sweet, sweet boy," Alya was saying. "Didn't you only have, what, _four euros_ left in your savings? And you spent it on _extra cheese_?"

"Sacrilege!" Adrien chipped in, his voice teeming with faux horror. "Alya, tell Nino we can't be friends anymore." He felt Plagg writhe inside his shirt and could simply imagine the kwami's outrage at the shade he'd just thrown on his precious cheese.

Up ahead, Marinette's shoulders shook in sync with a giggle.

"Ha! Tell him yourself, Pretty Boy."

"Okay okay," Marinette piped in. Even with her back to him, he could hear the smile in her voice. "Be there in just a sec, Al."

"Can't wait!"

With that, the call ended, and all he heard was the echoing taps of their feet on wooden steps. Then, Marinette stopped on a stair landing like the three they'd just passed and knocked on the second of three doors, its surface riddled with dents of varying sizes.

When the scent of spicy pepperoni again floated through the air, Adrien's eyes flicked to Kagami. "Guess it's a good thing pizza's not on the menu tonight, huh?"

"Two of my favourite foods in one day?" Kagami's mouth quirked up. "That sounds perfect, Adrien."

Perfect.

It sounded _perfect_.

Adrien looked to Marinette, a grateful smile at the ready. It'd been _her_ perfect suggestion, after all.

But she didn't smile back.

Those blue eyes had fallen to her ballerina flats—and this time, when his stomach clenched, Adrien had to wonder if hunger was truly to blame.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alrighty, peeps. Let's all give my wonderful beta reader, [writeringoodfaith](https://archiveofourown.org/users/writeringoodfaith), a GINORMOUS round of applause—clap clap clap!—because, my goodness, this chapter was a mission (you don't know HOW MANY TIMES I triggered my poor Adrienette heart while writing this). Anyway, if you enjoy adorable Miraculous fluff, I highly recommend her fics!
> 
> #### CHALLENGE TIME!
> 
> In this chapter, Adrien decided to take a lovely boat ride down a river I like to call DA NILE (he REALLY needs to stop doing that). I worked in various Easter eggs to show he's a jealous wee bean – even if he doesn't realise it. My beta and I counted 10 hints; if anyone else finds all 10, quote them in your comment below and I might drum up a one-shot for you as a prize! ;)
> 
>  **UPDATE:** We have a winner! Congrats, [Math_And_Lunancy](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Math_and_Lunacy)! I'll be writing you a one-shot of your choosing! (Also, an honourable mention goes to [Marlynmiro](https://archiveofourown.org/users/marlynmiro) for finding a decent amount too!) Of course, feel free to find these Easter eggs just for fun if you like! To give you an idea of what to look for, these Easter eggs could be in the form of body language, facial expression, a thought or dialogue. Some hints are more obvious than others. Happy hunting! ;D
> 
> Click [here](https://docs.google.com/document/d/1eMIYsQTvGHOwzEcFmiwkvoVDNwAmHnNoolb4qQc36CE/edit?usp=sharing) for the challenge answers!


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Previously, on You Times Two… Clumsy Girl fell hard for the sidewalk, sent macarons flying, and was starkly reminded of her feelings for Sonata the Hedgehog. Meanwhile, Jealadrien made his saucy debut, but blamed his funky stomach feels on his breakfast, and as he, Salami and Marimoo arrived at Alya’s front door, he unwittingly saddened our fav gal by mentioning his imminent date. Will envy run amuck during their gaming afternoon? And will Buginette get her feelings back on track? Read forth, my furiends, and find out!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so this might not be my most eventful chapter, but hopefully it's enjoyable nonetheless! I may or may not have been listening to [Hawk Moth's rap](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VnIxOtN2l3g&ab_channel=MiraculousLadybug) on repeat while writing this. What can I say? It’s a bop. Let’s hope this chapter isn’t tainted with villainous yearning! XD

Marinette stared down the scuffed floor of the stair landing, if only to hide the sting in her eyes and what it truly meant. She blinked – once, twice, thrice – and clung to the carton of macarons, so hard the cardboard let out a faint crack beneath her fingertips. She was waiting outside Alya’s apartment: the third wheel to a bicycle, soon to be the fifth to a quad bike. Not that she was mad. Well, not at Adrien.

 _She’d_ suggested a candlelit dinner. _She’d_ told him to ask Kagami out properly. _She’d_ planted the seeds in his mind. And God, if the night of Glaciator was anything to go by, she’d bet her earrings he’d planned the most swoon-worthy of dinners. Had he decided Kagami made him happier than Ladybug? Did he plan to make their relationship official? To make her his girlfriend?

Adrien’s polished shoes shifted from the corner of her eye. “Marinette?” The concern that coated his voice had her lifting her head. “Are—”

The apartment door squeaked open, and the familiar herbal scent of Marlena’s houseplants flooded the stairwell.

“Why hello, boy and girls!” Alya’s eyes zipped across the three of them. “Weiiird. It feels like we talked just _seconds_ ago!”

Adrien’s eyes snapped ahead, model smile at the ready. “Hey, Al,” he said, readjusting the pizza boxes. “You took the words right out of my mouth!”

Kagami offered a little half-bow. “Thank you for welcoming me into your home.”

“S’all good, Kagami!” Alya's attention turned to Marinette, and her grin wavered.

"Uh - Hi, Al!" Marinette pasted on a smile. "I'm here on time for once!" Had her hands been free, she’d have whipped out some jazz hands for extra oomph.

Alya shook her head. “Dang, girl! You sick or something?” She stepped aside with a lively, “Come on in, squad. Shoes can stay _on_.” She eyeballed Adrien. “Being exposed to your shoeless feet _once_ was enough for me.”

His ears reddened. “I don’t know _what_ you’re talking about.”

The image of Plagg’s gooey Camembert squelching around in his shoes hit Marinette and suddenly, her smile came more freely. They had another joint patrol tonight. She’d have to ask him where he stowed it all.

They’d just crowded in the entry hallway when Nino bounded on up, his sneakers pounding on the parquet floor. “Hey, ma dude!” He threw an arm around Adrien, nearly bowling him over. “Thanks for keeping the pizzas away from Marinette.”

“Marinette was bluffing,” Kagami interjected, her lips splitting into an awkward grin. The corner of Marinette’s own mouth rose in recognition. “She led us up the stairs right after making her threat. She never intended to eat the pizzas without you.”

Two seconds ticked by as Nino and Alya bore witness to Kagami’s pearly whites. “Err,” Nino drawled, first to shatter the silence. “Riiight.” He pulled his trademark finger guns.

“Yo, Kagami!” Alya planted a hand on her hip. “Ready for the grand tour? Adrien, you might as well tag along.”

Marinette didn’t miss the scheming glint in Alya’s eyes as they swept from Kagami to Adrien, then her to Nino. “In the meantime, babe, can you give M a hand with _fixing things up_?”

Nino readjusted his cap. “You got it, Al.” He reached for the pizza boxes in Adrien’s arms. “I’ll take those off your hands, bro.”

The instant he did, Kagami took Adrien’s hand in hers.

“Alrighty, ladies and gents!” Alya nodded toward a lone door on her left. “Right there is the bathroom, where yours truly fabulizes herself every morning.” After a sassy flick of her fiery hair, she gestured to the pale wall on their right, which stretched to the far end of the apartment, its surface busied by tribal masks and animal paintings. “All those doors lead to the bedrooms, which brings me to the most _important_ part of our tour.” The volume of her voice faded as she led the hand-in-hand couple past the kitchen, the dining room, the lounge – all open-plan – and through the furthest door. “Here is your royal highness’ room!” She shut the door behind them.

“So,” Nino drawled.

Only then did Marinette realise she’d watched Adrien every step of the way.

Or rather, his hand.

In Kagami’s.

She ripped her eyes from Alya’s bedroom door and threw Nino her most inconspicuous smile, hoping it was enough.

“Do you – uh – like triple cheese?” He jerked the pizza boxes a little higher in his arms. “Could I interest you in a slice? Or two. Maybe three. As many as you need.”

“Triple cheese sounds great.”

With a nod, Nino led her down the short corridor, around the corner and into the kitchen. Red overran her vision, a result of the dated cabinets that lined the wall to their left. He laid the three pizza boxes across the island bench, her carton of macarons soon joining them.

Flipping back the lids, the aroma of melted mozzarella and spicy pepperoni warmed the air. In a matter of moments, napkins layered the polished bench before them, and pizza sagged between their fingers. One bite of pizza and her troubles seemed just a little smaller. Two and they were melting like mozzarella in one of those nifty clay ovens. 

A self-assured voice travelled through Alya’s door.

“—our first date – couple—”

Was Kagami talking about tonight?

“—no doubt – perfect—”

Marinette squinted, like that’d help her hear bett—

 _Splat_.

A glob of mozzarella slid off her steaming slice and onto the bench.

“Hey…” Nino’s voice was oddly gentle, much like his eyes when she met them. “I’m sorry about my dude. He’s pretty clueless sometimes.”

“What? No, I just—” Her sight sunk to the bench, zeroing in on the glob of mozzarella. She plucked it up, dumped it on her napkin, and sighed. “Sorry. I’m trying to get over him.”

Nino offered her a smile of solidarity. “It’ll be okay, M.” He propped his arms upon the bench, eyes sinking to his pizza. “I figured he’d tell me if they were official, you know?”

“Um – They’re _not_ official?”

“They’re _not_?”

Wait.

Did _Nino_ not even know?

“Well, uhh…” She toyed with the edge of her napkin. “Adrien told me he didn’t think they were official yet, despite what people have been saying. But they _are_ going out on a date tonight, so...” Any words thereafter only clung to her tongue, refusing to be given voice.

“Really?” His brows squished together. “When’d he say that? How’d this even come up?”

“Well, I left my backpack at school yesterday, so he dropped it off. I took the chance to congratulate him and – uh – _that’s_ when he asked for my advice.”

“Man,” he murmured, cupping his chin, “maybe I should talk to him. See where his head’s at.”

Marinette tensed. “Ju-Just – If you _do_ , please don’t tell him I said anything. I – I thought you _knew_. And besides”—the volume of her voice dropped in time with her eyes—“Kagami’s right. I hesitated. I had my chance – heck, I’ve had _hundreds_ of chances – but at the end of the day, I just can’t seem to bring myself to tell him how I feel.”

Nino shifted closer on his barstool and set a hand on her shoulder. “Well, Marinette, sometimes the _slowest_ turtles are the ones that win the race.”

Images of a green-clad superhero played in her mind’s eye. She couldn’t help but giggle. He’d made a great Carapace. Goodness, even now, without the Turtle Miraculous, he was _still_ looking out for Ladybug.

And now that she thought about it, maybe there was a truth to Nino’s words that even _he_ was unaware of. The bond between Ladybug and Chat Noir was second to none, built from a year of blind trust and friendship. If Chat Blanc was anything to go by, a sudden confession from her could end the world. Perhaps things were better this way.

Bunnyx sure seemed to think so. She _knew_ Marinette was Ladybug. It wasn’t a stretch to assume she knew Chat Noir’s identity too. Even Hawk Moth’s. When Timetagger terrorised Paris, Bunnyx had hopped in and suggested through flailing hand motions that love between her and Chat Noir would be messy. Was that because of timing? Or were they just not meant to be?

“Well,” Nino tore her from her thoughts, “the slowest turtle _usually_ wins the race… but not in Mario Kart!” He grinned, prodding a thumb over his shoulder, toward the living room. “Ready to eat my dust?”

There was a glint in her eye. “May the fastest turtle win.”

* * *

Their pizzas downed, Marinette and Nino made their way onto the immense L-shaped sofa. Thumbs soon flicked joysticks. Fingers scurried across tiny buttons. An upbeat soundtrack bounced through the TV speakers. On a particularly tight corner, Marinette’s character drifted by Nino’s in a flash of yellow and pink.

He growled, gripping the controller tighter. “ _How_ are you so good at gaming?!”

She threw her nose in the air, a twinkle in her eye. “Practice.”

Seconds later, a turtle shell crashed into her character, lurching Princess Peach into the air. She didn’t lose first place, but that didn’t stop her from pouting. “How do you keep hitting me?! You can’t even _aim_ the green ones!”

Grinning, he pinched the brim of his cap. “Practice.”

To the left of the TV, Alya’s bedroom door eased open, and the queen herself peeked through the crack. Seeming satisfied by the sight of them gaming up a storm, she swung her door the rest of the way and sashayed into the living room, Adrien and Kagami in tow. The latter stopped to study the screen. “Who’s winning?”

Adrien didn’t miss a beat. “Marinette, of course.” He ducked past the TV, careful of obstructing their view.

Her breath accelerated in time with the music tempo as she commenced her final lap. It had absolutely nothing to do with Adrien claiming the empty spot to her right, the sofa sagging a smidge beneath his weight. Kagami was close behind, and despite the minimal leg room, she squeezed into the actual corner of the L-shaped sofa, right beside him.

“Dude,” Nino was screeching, “you have so little faith in me!”

“Sorry, Nino.” Adrien let out a little laugh. “I’m sure you’ll beat her _one_ of these days.”

“You are _so_ not helping.”

Alya plopped down beside Nino and planted a peck on his cheek. “At least you’re not far behind, babe.”

“No, but I _will_ be if you keep doing _that_.”

Not even a minute later, Marinette sprung to her feet with her fists in the air. “YES! I win! Marinette style! _Booyah_!” With a second fist pump, she almost lost the controller to the ceiling—but she didn’t, ‘cause she was a _winner_. And of course, that warranted a fervid victory dance, so she did just that; her hands swept from left to right and back again as she chanted, “Uh huhhh! Oh yeahhh! I’m the best! Uh _huh_!”

Her theatrics were only urged on by the laughter that layered the air (around eighty five percent of which _might’ve_ just come from a certain kitty cat).

Nino thumped a hand on the round coffee table ahead. “I _demand_ a rematch,” he squawked, “on two hundred CC!”

Marinette spared her nails a cheeky glance. “Ha! You’re on, _chump_.” In the wake of her victory, she was well on her way to feeling normal again. “Let Master Dupain-Cheng show you how it’s done!”

True to her word, she pulverized him.

* * *

For the next half hour, chit-chat and banter filled the airy apartment, as the quintet savoured their fill of pizza. Four slices remained, tucked away in a cardboard box on the coffee table for Luka.

A four-player game of Mario Kart had ensued.

Marinette was winning.

Adrien was hot on her trail.

Alya and Nino were half a lap behind, after two run-ins with a certain yellow fruit.

And Kagami was keeping a curious eye on the TV, no doubt making mental notes for her first attempt next round.

“Ready, guys?” Adrien jumped to his feet. “Here it comes.” His character, a burly ape on a hefty quad-bike, was fast approaching a ramp. “Donkey Kong dab in three, two, one!” He dabbed in time with his character, complete with a dramatic grunt.

Marinette’s eyes remained on the screen, but that didn’t stop a smile from puffing her cheeks.

Nino, adamant that “whole body steering” was a legit strategy, unknowingly tilted into her personal space. “Bro,” he exclaimed, “was the grunt _really_ necessary?”

“Absolutely,” Adrien quipped. “It elevates the dab to a whole new level—”

“Babe,” Nino cut in, now leaning right into Alya’s space. “What’re you _doing_? Get outta my way. Get outta my way. Get outta my—”

“Nu uh, Nini! Get your stupid dinosaur outta _my_ —”

“Dude!” He thumped his feet on the floor like Gigantitan 2.0, and Marinette’s eyes flicked to his section of the screen just in time to catch the tail-end of his kart spinning. “ _Another_ freaking banana?!”

“Ha!” Adrien voiced, triumphant. “Yes. _Peel_ the pain of my slippery secret weapon!”

Alya snorted. “The pain of your puns isn’t bad enough?”

“Just call me Banadrien.”

“Bro? You can’t think up something better than _that_?”

Marinette’s smile turned wry. “Don’t you mean something more _apeeling_?”

Adrien gave a hearty laugh. “See? M gets it.”

She narrowly escaped an explosive, green turtle shell. Since when did Adrien use _that_ nickna—

Gasping, she clutched the controller closer.

A certain pesky primate had crept into the corner of her screen.

“No no no no _no_!”

“Yes yes yes yes _yes_!”

She shoved her thumb against the accelerator button, so hard a tiny circle was surely forming on her skin. “Adrien, get your creepy ape away from me!”

“That was the perfect opportunity for a Planet of the Apes reference. I am _so_ disappointed in you!”

Adrien’s conniving cackles enlivened the room, but now was _not_ the time to admire the unbridled joy in his voice, nor the throatiness of his chuckles. Her face scrunched as she wrestled with her thoughts. For goodness’ sake, Kagami was sitting _right next to him_!

Holding her breath, Marinette dared a peek at the silent girl. Kagami’s hand cupped her chin, her eyes set on the screen. She eased her head onto Adrien’s shoulder—

Princess Peach zoomed straight over a poorly concealed banana peel, the wheels of her kart skimming the track with a dizzying spin.

His pesky monkey shot straight past and—

“NO!”

“YES!”

Kagami placed a hand on Adrien’s knee, which had bobbed wildly for most of the race. “Well done, Adrien,” she praised, patting his knee twice.

“It’s not over _yet_ ,” Marinette declared.

The music amped up, Adrien now in the lead and commencing his third and final lap. Marinette was close behind.

Alya unleashed a throaty groan. “Adrien, you and your bananas are driving me _cray_!”

“Dude! How many do you have?!”

Adrien sniggered. “I’m gonna hazard a guess and say a _bunch_.”

“But how?!” Nino screeched.

“I guess you could say they were _ripe_ for the picking.”

Marinette rolled her eyes. “Gosh, Banadrien! Stop distracting me with your lame puns!” From her peripheral vision, she caught his grin inch wider. He leaned well within her bubble and her Chadrien Alarm™ blared like an air horn.

“Now you’re just hurting my _peelings_.”

Her heart thundered in her ears. She didn’t trust herself to speak. No, instead she elbowed his gut, which only encouraged another laugh. Suddenly, she was laughing too.

That is, until she glimpsed Kagami’s thumb shift a smidge atop the black denim of his jeans. Her hand hadn’t left his knee.

“M, you’re falling behind!” Alya cried, snapping her to attention. “Quick! Cut corners!”

“Find shortcuts!” Nino added.

“Run him off the track!” said Alya. “You don’t want him banana punning for the rest of the day, do you?”

Marinette giggled. “Shouldn’t you be taking your own advice?” 

“Girl, we’re a lap behind.”

“Yeah, we’re just cruisin’ at this point. _You’ve_ still got a chance!”

Marinette honed in on the TV. His quad bike was up ahead. Only half a lap remained. Things weren’t looking good, but that’s never stopped her before.

Her tongue peeked through her lips.

“Oh! Oh!” Alya made an exaggerated gasp. “She’s got her game face on, boys and girls!”

“She’s catching up!” Nino cheered.

They were right. So maybe if she _really_ dug in and focussed—

“Say _yellow_ to my triple bananas!”

Three slippery suckers clustered behind Adrien’s motoring monkey. He released the first.

She dodged it.

He let loose his second.

Another dodge.

The third.

Yet another dodge-a-roonie.

“You really aren’t living up to your nickname, _Banadrien_.” With a satisfying jingle, her character rocketed through a mystery box—but suddenly, she was whirling at the hands of a despicably well-placed banana. “WHAT!?” Her eyes bulged.

“You were saying?” He sent her his signature wink.

She sputtered—for words or air, she couldn’t be sure. That sly cat! Had he planted that sucker on their previous lap?

Donkey Kong whooshed over the finish line.

Nino and Alya’s jaws dropped in unison, their gasps rocking the room.

“Yea-hea- _heah_!” Adrien launched to his feet, Kagami’s hand falling from his knee, though the smile on her lips was as apparent as his excitement. He whipped out a fervent victory dab—once more in sync with his character. “Beat you by a _banana_ _split_ second. Adrien style!” With dramatic flair, he threw Marinette some dual finger guns. “ _Booyah_!”

She burst into a fit of laughter. Gosh, if _this_ was the price to pay for losing to her partner, she honestly couldn’t complain. “Next—“ She wheezed. “Next round I _will_ reign victorious!”

His shoulders shook with his every snicker. “Seems our Gamer Princess is salty she got dethroned!” He flashed a smirk and suddenly, all she saw was her cheeky kitty. All she felt was a fierce thumping in her chest. And all she could do was beam up at that face and those eyes and the pure joy that sang within them.

Why yes, she’d been dethroned.

And if he acted like _this_ every time, she’d lose again in a banana split second.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For anyone who’s interested, I also write [Miraculous one-shots](https://archiveofourown.org/series/2001316).
> 
> When the time comes, I'm hoping to write two side fics for YTT: a coming-of-age Bunnyx fic and another about Ladybug and Chat Noir visiting the Tibetan Temple. I don’t want YTT’s main story to be too all over the place, so side fics like these are my solution! Reading them won’t be needed to understand and enjoy this fic, but keep your eyes peeled if the premises interest you. :D
> 
> With all of that said, I hope you all have a wonderful rest of your day! :)


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Previously, on You Times Two… Maribug was a bit of a depresso espresso, what with the impending Adrigami date and fifth wheeling her friends. That is, until our favourite dude cheered her up with pizza, turtle talk and some good ol’ Mario Kart. Of course, her kitty-cat’s banana puns might’ve helped a smidge. But will dustings of Adrigami continue to throw her off? And when Chilluka rocks up, will Jealadrien be far behind?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As purromised, a pretty quick update! This chapter features more funnies, friendship and some Just Dance gameplay. If you’d like to listen along to the songs and/or watch the choreography, I’ve made a [YouTube playlist](https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLMMKJSAerhzYAAnb0K7TH7SM3UxkCKbmU). Songs are listed in the order that they appear in this chapter and I may just add more _meowsic_ in the future, so stay _tuned_. ~~Cap's clawful puns strike again.~~

An hour after Adrien's slippery ascent to victory, they turned to Ultimate Mecha Strike III for some more hearty butt-whooping.

With one final zap of an energy beam, the words "KAGAMI WINS" flashed across the screen, and her crimson mecha-tank launched a clawed fist in the air.

"Aw maaan!" Nino dumped his controller on the coffee table. "How could I lose to a _total noob_?" He froze. "Uh – No offence! You did good, dudette – I mean _Kagami_!"

Alya clutched her stomach, her cheeks red from laughing. "Nice one, Kagami! You – You really got him good with that – _ah_ – that triple kick hyperstorm combo!"

"Yeah, Kagami!" Adrien nudged her shoulder with his own. "Only your third game and already you're winning!"

Marinette gave a thumbs up. "You're a natural."

Kagami threaded a strand of hair behind her ear, the slightest of blushes grazing her cheeks. "Thank you, everyone. I couldn't have won without Marinette's expert teaching." She bowed her head, her mouth curving into a smile that simply looked like it belonged there.

That small fact made Marinette's own smile double in size.

"But, dudes, I'm _sick_ of UMS."

Alya tapped down the brim of Nino's precious cap. "You're just sick of _losing_ , babe."

Pouting, he straightened his hat. "That's not the point, Al." He bounced to his feet, eyes on Adrien. "Why don't we fire up Just Dance instead? Let's show 'em our swagger!"

Adrien's face practically glowed as he leapt from the sofa, Kagami's hands falling from his arm to her lap. "You're on, Nino!"

"Ha!" Nino flashed his signature finger guns. "On like _Donkey Kong_!"

With an overly dramatic scoff, Adrien placed a hand to his chest in a decidedly Chat Noir fashion. "Excuse me? Only _I_ have the rights to that line… especially after my ape overthrew our princess." He sent Marinette an over the shoulder wink and naturally, a flush flamed across her face.

While Nino set up Just Dance, Adrien shrugged out of his blazer in one fluid movement and flicked it over the sofa with a ridiculous amount of flair. He rolled his neck, laced his fingers and stretched his arms out before him. Pair that with the fact his polished shoes, snug jeans, and long-sleeved dress shirt were all black and wow, he was but a tail away from his alter ego. The only thing missing was a poorly timed pun. The flush across her face deepened.

Adrien strutted up to the TV. Umber drapes framed the wide balcony doors to his left, swaying with the wind that weaved through the living room to fan his golden hair. With his eyes on the screen, he raised a thoughtful hand to his chin. His fingers were soaked in sunlight, its rays catching his ring at just the right angle to inspire a shine of silver. Buzzfeed had once dubbed this particular pose The Pondering Prince. It was easy to see why on a rainy day. And even easier when sunbeams spilled across his hair like a literal crown of sunshine.

Marinette wasn't staring.

Nope, not at all.

The choruses of classic pop songs cut through the air as Nino cycled through choreographies. She knew the moment a song stood out to Adrien, by the way The Pondering Prince transformed into The Keen Cutie.

An annoyingly catchy melody sprung through the speakers:

' _Take me by the tongue and I'll know you. Uh! Kiss me 'til you're drunk and I'll show you—'_

The boys exchanged an eager high five, while Marinette bit back a snort. Chat Noir choosing Moves Like Jagger?

"Only _you_ would, Adrien. Silly ca—" Her mouth snapped shut, but his merry eyes were already on her. She went ramrod straight in her seat. "Ca – _Can't_ be used to describe you row—I mean _now_ – no, _right now_." She shook her head madly. "Or – uh – any time, really. Because you're so great. At moving. With your feet!"

Adrien stared at her. She could almost _see_ the cogwheels turning in his eyes. Hopefully those cogwheels had _nothing_ to do with her slip up and _everything_ to do with interpreting her word vomit. Finally, he graced her with one of his classic, heart-warming smiles. "Thank you, Marinette!"

She threw two thumbs up. "Well done! I mean, _welcome_!"

To her right, she could just feel concerned eyes on her.

And to her left, Alya facepalmed.

Adrien's soft smile lingered on Marinette for a moment longer, before a "Ready, bro?" brought his attention back to the TV. She sucked in a breath.

That smile. That classic Adrien smile. It was a gentle, shy sort of smile. One that made you feel special. Chat Noir's smile, on the other hand, was silly, cheeky, at times flirty—and had prompted her to groan on several occasions. Totally different, right?

But they were the same person! As classmates, she could probably count the amount of coherent conversations she'd had with him on her hands. But as partners, they were closer than ever. She'd thought of him as one of her dearest friends long before learning his civilian identity. Now, an unpleasant question reared its awful head. Were his smiles wildly different? Or just her reactions to them?

Alya's voice pulled her from her thoughts. "Daaang!" she called, flaunting a smirk. "You boys are pulling out _all_ the stops today. Where've you been hiding those dance moves, Adrien?"

Marinette looked up at the boy in question and saw her friend, Adrien, dancing with the unbridled joy of her partner, Chat Noir.

And Alya's words must've emboldened him, for he broke away from the choreography with a suave spin on the spot. "Come on, Al. You don't _actually_ think I spent home-school doing _schoolwork_ , do you?" As Maroon 5 whistled on, he executed each move with a flawless flourish. To think, this was the same guy who high-fived street signs with his face.

Alya snickered. "Not bad, Blondie. Not bad at all!"

With an achingly familiar bow, he enacted the tipping of a fake top hat. A silent thank you. One with the pizzazz befitting of her partner.

His theatrics brought out a giggle. She'd seen her silly kitty cut a rug, as he liked to call it, more times than she cared to count. On quiet patrols. In the heat of battle. A few months ago, an amateur video of his dancing had even trended online (he'd reminded her for over a week). His timing was never impeccable, but as they'd grown closer, stifling a smile at his zest for interpretive movement had become increasingly tricky.

"Yes!" Nino wheezed, flinging his arm in time with the dancing avatar on the screen. "I'm catching up!" He was _so_ out of breath. "Keep distracting him!"

"Oh Adrien," her bestie proclaimed, as he moonwalked like a professional zombie from Thriller. "Our dazzling King of Swag!" He held a hand to his ear, spurring her on. "Your flow knows no bounds. I must bow before such unrivalled finesse." True to her word, she bowed in her seat.

And boy, did he lap up the praise! He performed a ridiculously smooth body roll, and concluded it with a click of his fingers. His smile was nearly blinding.

That was all the motivation Marinette needed to pop in her own compliment. "In the not so distant future, bards shall sing of our swagtabulous leader's epic freestyling, and their song shall aptly be named _Moves Like Swagdrien_!"

Just when she'd thought he couldn't shine any brighter, a laugh burst from his lips. It was one she seldom heard without his mask and the fact she'd brought it out only swelled her sprinting heartbeat.

His next move involved a little hip swaying and a lot of arm swinging. Marinette had only played Fortnite a handful of times, but she had a sneaking suspicion she'd once witnessed it there.

"Keep going, ladies!" Nino implored. "I'm _finally_ winning!"

"Yaaas!" Alya called. "Swagdrien The _Suave_!"

"Woo!" Marinette launched her fists in the air. "Swagdrien The _Debonair_!"

"Adrien," Kagami cut in, her puzzled tone stark against the laughter of her friends. "You aren't following the choreography?"

"Rules," he panted, "are made to be broken." As if to emphasise his point, he pulled a double arm wave.

Her brows scrunched. "But you're losing?"

Adrien, now mid-robot, incorporated a shrug into his dance. "This way's more fun"—he threw her a smile—"don't you think?"

His dancing didn't die down in the slightest, nor did the laughter that ensued in its wake.

* * *

Marinette, like most people, enjoyed bobbing along to Despacito at the best of times.

But this wasn't the best of times.

No, it was the worst. The absolute worst.

More good-natured trash-talking had led to Nino challenging Adrien to a dance-off. But not just any dance-off. No, a double couple dance off (read: everyone but her).

Furthermore, the universe was really testing her limits today—because Despacito's choreography was jam-packed with touching between partners. Sure, Kagami was rather stiff. She'd never played Just Dance before, but Adrien's skills more than made up for that. His hands nestled on her hips, their smiles broad and their bodies close as they moved to the beat.

She tried to smile. She tried to be happy for them. This was what they both wanted. Inserting herself between them – like matter between two magnets – would only be selfish. Even so, she couldn't deny the way her gut writhed at the sight of the happy almost-couple. And she couldn't help but notice Kagami's growing blush.

A distraction.

She _needed_ a distraction.

As if some higher being had honed in on her thoughts, three knocks echoed throughout the apartment. Knuckles on wood had never sounded so wonderful!

Marinette jumped from the sofa. "I'll get it!"

Finally, she'd no longer be the fifth wheel to a quad bike. No, with Luka here, she'd instead be a part of some strange, six-wheeled hybrid. Much more appealing. She raced to the front door and swung it open.

Teal eyes smiled down at her, and their owner gave a little wave, black nail polish shining in the light of the stairwell.

"Luka!" She sprung a hug upon him and without hesitation, he returned it. The exchange only lasted two seconds – three tops – but by gosh, the rich scent of sandalwood delighted her senses long after. "So, how was your shift?"

"Oh, it couldn't end fast enough."

Truer words had never been spoken.

Marinette took his free hand in hers and guided him to the living room. The two couples were still dancing up a storm, guitar chords and Spanish lyrics echoing through the room. "Hey, I see you brought your guitar." She beamed up at him. "You'll have to play us something later. I'd really love to hear my song again!"

From the corner of her eye, Adrien stumbled mid-step.

"I saw that, Blondie!" cackled Alya, her hand in Nino's as they grooved from side to side. "You burning out?"

"Never!" He broke away from the choreography and Kagami quirked a brow as he puffed his chest out into a body roll, even more fluid than his first.

Luka slipped a guitar case off of his shoulders and against the sofa. "Hey, everyone!" He was answered by an array of breathless greetings. "Oh, right." He chuckled. "They're just dancing."

Marinetted laughed—

Until she realised the wordplay wasn't intentional.

"Wow!" Luka chimed, settling on the sofa. "Nice moves, Adrien."

Green eyes remained on the screen. "Thanks."

Marinette swiped the pizza box from the table, four pieces saved within it. "As promised, Luka!" Handing over the box, she sat beside him. "If you're not a cold pizza kinda guy, I can always heat it up for you?"

With a slice of pizza in hand, his free arm reached behind her, resting across the back of the sofa. "It's okay, Marinette. I'm perfectly fine with cold pizza." His eyes were as gentle as his smile. "The thought's appreciated though. Thank you."

A flush crept up her face as he looked at her, but she didn't mind. Not at all.

* * *

' _We are one tonight, and we're breathing in the same air—'_

With an easy smile, Marinette tapped her toes in time to the lively tempo of Turn Up The Love. To no one's surprise, Alya and Nino were nailing every move thrown their way—and fast approaching new high scores.

"Wow," Luka spoke up beside her, and her eyes flitted toward him. "They're so in tune, don't you think?"

Marinette gave a merry nod, recalling a time she'd said similar words to a certain blond.

_She leant against the coffee table, smiling at the sight of her dancing friends. "They're so in sync with each other."_

" _You're right," Adrien said, from the other end of a FaceTime call. "Someday I hope I'll find someone I can share everything with… like they_ _do."_

In the present, she pursed her lips. Had Adrien been thinking of Ladybug then? Her eyes drifted toward the boy in question, only to catch his eyes zipping away that very second.

"Too right, Luka!" Adrien leaped into their conversation—and winced when his voice shot up an octave. Clearing his throat, he directed a smile at the dancing duo. "When's the wedding, guys?"

Alya skipped around Nino, her arms swinging to the beat. "We don't know the date _just_ yet."

"But don't worry," Nino puffed. "You'll definitely be my best dude!"

"They're only fourteen, Adrien." Kagami tilted her head, her dark hair shifting. "How young do you plan to get married?"

Beside her, Marinette felt him tense. "Oh – I – Ye- _ah_." His voice cracked. "Fourteen's _way_ too young! The legal age is – uh – eighteen, right?"

"You plan to be married at eighteen?"

"Err – Well, I don't – I don't know?" He squeezed out a laugh. "I mean, _maybe_. For the right girl?"

"Does that mean you'd marry the wrong girl if you were older?"

"No, I just—"

"Your indecision is troubling, Adrien."

Those words seemed to resonate with him. He shrunk into the sofa like a silent apology.

Marinette's nails dug dents into her palms—but Kagami didn't deserve her ire. She wasn't exactly well-acquainted with social cues. Heck, she probably didn't even realise what she was doing.

Flexing her paling fingers, Marinette turned to Luka, a wordless plea to fix this. She didn't trust herself to.

And he didn't disappoint.

"Hey, Marinette?" Both fencers looked his way. "Has anyone else tried your macarons yet?"

Adrien clung to those words. "I saw the carton on the bench, but I didn't want to be the first one to crack into them!" With a sheepish chuckle, he dipped a hand behind his neck. "I figured we were saving them for later in the day?"

If he didn't get his passionfruit macaron today, Marinette would scream to high heaven. "No no, Adrien!" She waved her hands for emphasis. "Feel free to help yourself. No, actually—"

She launched to her feet.

He did the same.

"—I'll bring them over," they said in unison. Blinking at each other, they laughed at once. "Sorry," they said. "I – Uh. You go first! No, _you_ —"

Marinette held up a hand. "I'll bring the napkins. You bring the macarons. Deal?"

"Deal!"

* * *

A minute later, Alya and Nino collapsed onto the sofa, their chests heaving after their dance. To his delight, Nino had come out on top, destroying his former high score along with Alya's. (Not at all suspiciously, Alya had matched him point-for-point until the last thirty seconds, when her dancing had deteriorated just enough to let him win.)

A cardboard carton, with a golden emblem adorning its lid, rattled in Marinette's palms. While Adrien shared napkins around, she plonked down beside Luka. "I hope all this dancing's worked up everyone's appetite!"

Alya accepted a napkin. "By the grin on Adrien's face, I'd say his answer is a resounding yes."

"Can't blame him, babe. Those moves were unreal."

"It must be the fencing."

"From what I saw, he was a one-man sonata."

"Or a unicorn."

"Girl, did you just call Adrien a unicorn?"

Marinette nodded, unabashed. She was trying to get over him, yes. That didn't mean he wasn't still one of a kind.

With all leftover napkins now on the coffee table, Adrien resumed his seat between Marinette and Kagami. "Full disclosure: I'd make a magnificent unicorn."

Laughter erupted.

And only as it died down did Marinette speak again. "In that case, I sure hope unicorns like macarons!" She flipped back the carton in her lap, revealing an assortment of brown and yellow treats. "We've got two flavours: Belgian chocolate and passionfruit. I would've made more, but I was a little short on time."

"I'll believe it," Alya teased.

She stuck out her tongue. "Just a heads up, everyone—"

From the corner of her eye, Kagami reached for Adrien's hand and threaded it with her own. His smile wavered. He went to pull back, but Kagami tightened her grip—without realising? Adrien's struggling stopped.

"Yike—"

Marinette glimpsed a stern look from Alya.

"I mean LIKE! Yeah. I was, like, extra clumsy this morning and – err – dropped the macarons on this side." She jabbed a finger toward the left of the carton. "So – Um. Sorry about that."

Hands reached from all sides, lightening the carton in her hands, and delighted hums soon floated through the living room.

"Girl, you've really outdone yourself this time!"

"Ditto, babe!"

"I agree." Kagami admired the yellow, half-eaten macaron between her fingers. Her other hand still gripped Adrien's. "This is really delicious."

Adrien's face inched near as he marvelled at the macarons. "You made these, Marinette?" She _thought_ she felt herself nod. "They look delicious!" He took one from the tainted side. Passionfruit, of course. His first bite— "Wow." He gazed at the treat like it was the answer to world peace. "Marinette, this macaron. It's… It's _perfect_!"

She felt herself beam as he savoured a second bite. This beautiful moment was most definitely worth the many Sundays she'd spent baking a single macaron.

In or out of the suit. Chat Noir or Adrien. He was her friend. Maybe she'd never see those three kids or that hamster. Maybe she'd never have that dog or that beautiful house. At least, not with Adrien.

Because they were superheroes.

Because of apocalyptic cataclysms.

Because he said he loved Ladybug, but in the end, he chose Kagami.

But she could still make him happy.

Luka reached for a treat last. His side pressed into hers as he leaned closer and picked a chocolate macaron. Like this morning, he went for the street-sullied side. With his free arm splayed behind her, he settled back into the couch cushions and savoured the snack with his eyes shut. "This flavour's even better! You're so extraordinary, Marinette."

Cheeks aflame, Marinette brushed a stray strand of hair behind her ear.

Extraordinary.

Luka said she was _extraordinary_.

And it wasn't the first time. No, the first time he'd been under Hawk Moth's cruel influence. And she tried not to take a supervillain's words to heart.

But then he'd said it again, his hand warm on her arm and his eyes warmer still.

" _You're the most extraordinary girl, Marinette. As clear as a musical note and as sincere as a melody. You're the music that's been playing inside my head since the first day we met."_

Was it time to tune along to his song?

Marinette swallowed, searching for a reply to the wonderful words of her friends. Instead, she caught the green gaze of another boy watching her fondly.

A lump lodged in her throat.

From the day she'd met him, her heart had been his.

But he didn't want his classmate.

From the day she'd met Luka, she'd been the song inside his head.

He made sure she knew where they stood.

He supported her every decision.

He made things simple.

The logical choice was clear.

Yet her heart throbbed at the thought.

No matter what, someone was bound to get hurt. Her friend. Her partner. Herself.

For over a year, she'd saved Paris with quick-thinking and convoluted strategies. She was the girl with a plan, the one people came to when times were tough. Yet here she was, unable to think up a single way to save her and her loved ones from heartbreak.

Why was she so useless?

Why couldn't she just keep everyone happy?

How could she possibly choose between them?

"Earth to Marinette?" Alya interrupted her thoughts. "Guys! I think we broke her with compliments!"

"No! Sorry, I just—" Marinette placed a hand to her chest and drew in a breath. "Thank you, everyone." She meant that wholeheartedly, and turned to Alya with a smile. "Wanna get back to dancing?"

"You know it!"

* * *

' _Starships were meant to fly! Hands up and touch the sky!'_

Of course, Alya had picked an old favourite of theirs: Starships by Nicki Minaj. A bop that never failed to bump up her mood. She knew the choreography well, but was still surprised by her soaring score. Her every move displayed a grace she'd never thought possible without a little latex magic, and over and over, the word "PERFECT" flashed gold on the screen. It was like the game was a one-word dictionary, but she sure wasn't complaining.

"Oh my gosh, M!" Alya puffed. "You are _killing_ it!"

"Call me Swagrinette!"

Adrien laughed from his place on the sofa. "I don't think Swagrinette has quite the same ring to it." She threw a smile over her shoulder—just as Kagami eased her head onto _his_.

Marinette misstepped, but caught herself before the floor could. "Oops!" She wheezed out a laugh. "Spoke too soon, Al." Her arms circled through the air in sync with the dancing avatar.

Alya snorted. "You're _still_ owning it!"

"She's right," Kagami added. "Your dancing's impressive, Marinette."

She glanced back at Kagami, another smile at the ready. It died on her lips at the sight she beheld. Adrien's eyes were on his hand, laced with Kagami's, and the look he wore was a resigned one. Knitted brows. A slight weight to his lips. He was _unhappy_ —

Pain sliced through her ankle.

In a tangle of limbs, she tumbled to the floor.

Voices cried out her name.

Steps pounded.

She didn't know when, but her hand had clung to her ankle, and her face twisted as it throbbed beneath her fingertips.

"Are you okay?!"

Her eyes flew up—and what they beheld was excruciatingly familiar.

Two hands were extended before her: black nail polish painted the one on her right and an unmistakable ring adorned the one on her left. Her right hand remained around her ankle. Her other lifted off the floor. It drifted left, right, then paused dead centre.

With a composing breath, Marinette chose neither. Instead, she reached for a nearby ottoman, small and round and pastel pink, and chose to help herself off the floor. "I'm fine, guys," she said, reaching her feet.

Everyone stared, eyes rife with worry, while Starships thumped on in the background. Such upbeat music now seemed woefully out of place.

Alya propped a hand on her hip. "You _sure_ , Marinette?"

Nino stepped to Adrien's side. "Yeah, that was one heck of a fall."

"I agree." Kagami's eyes were on Marinette's ankle. "It looked pretty serious."

Marinette fixed up a smile. "Really, I'm A-OK. See?" She shifted her weight to her right—

Another zap of pain.

Two sets of hands sprang to her shoulders, steadying her.

Marinette waved both boys away. "No no. I've got this." She hobbled over to the sofa, stifling a wince, while steps tapped behind her. "It's not as bad as it looks"—she wasn't sure if that was a lie—"but just in case, I think I'd better be a spectator for the rest of the day."

Luka seated himself to her immediate right. "First, we should really take care of your ankle." He looked to a concerned Alya, who'd seated herself on the arm of the sofa. "Do you have any ice packs?"

Adrien claimed the free spot to Marinette's left. "Plus something to act as a barrier between the ice pack and her skin." An instruction, not a suggestion. "Painkillers too. And some anti-inflammatory cream."

"On it!" Nino rushed to the freezer.

"We gotcha!" Alya's red hair whipped behind her as she dashed to the bathroom.

Marinette clung to the cushion beneath her. This was a disaster. A complete and utter disaster. But she could at least avoid dragging her friends down with her. "No need to fuss, guys." She kept her tone light. "It's really not that bad. And I don't wanna ruin the afternoon by—"

A comforting weight on her hand gave her pause. "Never." Adrien's eyes creased as he smiled, giving her hand a light squeeze. "We're just looking out for you. You'd do the same for any of us."

Luka's hand found her shoulder. "You can tell us if you're not okay, Marinette."

"Yeah, I can call you a doctor," Adrien chipped in. "Or get my driver to take you. Just say the word, Marinette."

Kagami knelt on the floor ahead of her, a cushion in hand. "I believe elevating the injury above the heart reduces swelling. Here." She placed the cushion on the coffee table and with a substantial amount of care, eased Marinette's foot upon it.

A smile flooded her face. Her friends were truly the best.

* * *

With a metallic whir, daylight broke upon the silhouette of a lean man, and flocks of butterflies stirred, their pale wings catching the sun.

"Ahh… An aspiring artist with a penchant for Picasso. One whose dreams have been crushed by a hard-hearted critic." Each word floated from his tongue with a delighted lilt. "What perfect prey for my akuma."

He beckoned a nearby butterfly to his awaiting palm, carefully caging it between two gloved hands. Darkness materialized, clinging to the insect and soiling its snowy wings.

"Fly away, my pretty akuma, and evilize this wounded soul!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You thought this was a simple romance/humour? YOU THOUGHT WRONG! It’s action time, baby! Honestly, it’s a wonder our girl hasn’t hurt her ankle already. There’s a [seven-minute video](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qHjnidwDwDs&ab_channel=MorningBaguette) of all the times she’s fallen over. Seven. Whole. Minutes. (Can totally relate. My lazy ass shortcuts when walking through doors and ends up walking into door frames, like, ALL the time.)


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Previously, on You Times Two… Swagdrien showed off his killer dance moves, Marimoo considered tuning along to Sonata The Hedgehog's song, and everyone but Foxy Lady, Turtle Boy and Chilluka was a jealous wee bean. Upon seeing Golden Boy's apparent discomfort at Pastrami's hands-on approach to her envy, Maribug tripped mid-dance and busted her poor ankle. And of course, after a week of no akumas, Mr Perfect Timing's back at it again. What doth the author hast in store for thee?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! This chapter's been done for weeks, but I had hoped to make it extra-long (like, double the length of a normal chapter) so as to include the akuma battle. Alas, said akuma battle is taking longer to write than I thought it would (action scenes are a bleep to write, let me tell you), so I've decided to save it for the next chapter. In any case, this update is still the length of a normal chapter. Enjoy! :D

The boings of Alya and Nino playing Super Penguino only somewhat muffled the soft and mellow strums of Luka’s guitar. It was a nice melody, Adrien wouldn’t deny. He’d thought the same thing a week ago, when they’d all sat by the Seine with André’s ice cream in hand.

But back then, he hadn’t known Luka had composed it just for Marinette. That it was supposedly _her_ song.

How _could_ he have known?

It was soft, but not nearly sweet enough. And laidback, rather than lively. And while it was pleasant, it lacked the passion befitting of his friend.

Her passion for sewing.

Her passion for helping others.

Her passion for standing up for what she believed in.

Adrien watched as she drew out a breath from her freckle-dusted nose, as her pink lips curved into an easy smile, as her bluebell eyes fluttered shut. Her elbow brushed his own as she tipped her head against Luka’s shoulder.

He felt pressure on his hand—a reminder that he still held Kagami’s. His eyes met hers, and the question that clouded her gaze was enough to spark surprise in his own. Someone had squeezed the other’s hand, but that someone hadn’t been her—

A gasp stole his attention. “Dudes!” Nino’s left hand clutched half of Alya’s iPad, while his right jabbed toward the TV. “Check out the news!”

Adrien did just that.

And sucked in a breath at the sight he beheld.

The concerned face of Nadja Chamack filled the screen. Live footage appeared of an offensively coloured tower that soared into the sky, its abstract surface jarring against the bygone architecture of the buildings around it.

Adrien knew the area. At least five minutes away by baton.

Alya lunged at the coffee table. “Unmute!” she screamed, snatching up the remote with a crazed look in her eye. One fierce jab of her finger—

“—in Montparnasse, where a new villain is turning Paris into an abstract nightmare!”

The screen flicked to a series of clips. Fleeing Parisians. Multicoloured beams. Anything they touched – people, buildings, buses, pigeons – transformed into an eye-achingly colourful and contorted version of its former self.

“As always, authorities advise all Parisians to stay indoors until Ladybug and Chat—”

_Zap!_

Colour swarmed across Nadja’s body. Her lips swelled. Her nose went freakishly thin. Her left eye bulged and climbed a good three inches up her face. And although her body was off screen, Adrien had a sneaking suspicion it looked just as ill-proportioned. With a gasp, she stumbled out of frame.

A figure dropped from the sky, his body as obnoxiously bright as the tower that loomed behind him. He skulked toward the screen, a sneer scrunching the enormous, triangular nostrils on his severely misshapen face. “I am Putricasso!” The footage faltered at the hands of an unseen cameraman. “And soon, all of Paris will be as breath-taking as Picasso’s fine creations!”

With narrow eyes, Putricasso aimed an oversized paintbrush at the screen.

The TV went static.

Adrien’s knee bobbed. Their first akuma in a week. Of course, it had to happen mid-group gathering. His eyes zipped around the apartment. He needed an excuse—

Marinette flew to her feet. “Actually—” A wince warped her face as she reeled back onto the sofa, hunched forward with her hand around her ankle. “I’ve – uh – changed my mind.” She stood again, this time slowly and with greater success. “I should _definitely_ see a doctor. Just in case.”

He sprung up beside her. “I’ll take you!”

“NO!”

By the sheer desperation in her voice, one might’ve thought he was dragging her into danger right along with him.

“I mean YES!” She slapped her hands together. “Take me now!” Her eyes flew wide. “To the _doctors_! Take me now to the doctors. Please.” He didn’t miss her limp as she looked between Nino, Kagami and Luka, an apologetic smile at the ready. Her eyes lingered on Luka especially.

Alya was too busy frantically tapping her phone screen to pay them all any mind.

“Sorry I couldn’t stay longer, guys.” Marinette’s fingers drummed against her pink, flowery clutch. “Injury aside, it’s been fun!” She was already hobbling toward the front door.

Adrien scooped his grey messenger bag off the floor, threw it over one shoulder, and turned to Kagami. He was met by a question:

“Can I come along?”

His shoulders shot to his ears. “Err – No need, Kagami! I’ll, uh, be quick.”

Her gaze swerved to Marinette, then back to him. “Okay.”

“Hey, Marinette?” Luka’s voice drew Adrien’s focus. “Are we still on for tomorrow?” The musician smiled at her from the sofa, guitar propped in his lap.

She was halfway to the exit, but stopped to beam at him all the same. “Of course! No way am I letting my clumsiness ruin our movie date.” For the second time today, she winked at Luka.

Adrien’s smile felt forced.

Until her attention turned to him.

“Ready, Adrien?”

He nodded and, after a brief farewell to his friends, rushed to her side. “Let’s go.”

As she continued to limp toward the exit, he identified a glaring flaw in his escape plan. He needed time to take her to the doctor’s. And time was something he had none of right now.

…

…

…

Crap.

Adrien could think of several reasons as to why he couldn’t ditch her. 

Reason one? It’d be a terrible thing to do.

Reason two? It’d be awfully suspicious after offering to take her in the first place.

Reason three? She really _did_ need his help.

But damn it, so did Ladybug. And all of Paris for that matter. Maybe he could speed things up somehow—

“Hold the fort, Nino!” Alya, who Adrien was sure had been on the sofa just a second ago, flashed by them in a blur of orange and blue. “Your girl’s gotta bounce!”

“Babe?!” Nino sputtered from his seat. “You’ve – You’ve got _guests_!”

Alya swung the front door aside, revealing a public stairwell of wooden steps and copper railing. “Montparnasse is, like, a twenty-minute metro away. If I jet now, I _might_ make the end of the battle!” She threw Marinette a one-handed finger gun. “Rest that foot up, girl!” And with that, she was off.

Marinette frowned at the front door, still ajar. “I swear she has no sense of self preservation.”

“With Ladybug protecting Paris, at least we know she’s in safe hands.”

She met his smile with one of her own. “You mean Ladybug _and_ Chat Noir.”

His lips parted, a merry “thank you” at the ready, until he realised that’d be a pretty odd response from Adrien Agreste. “You’re right,” he said instead, following her through the front door. “I’ll be back soon, everyone!” (He hoped.)

While he clicked the door shut behind him, Marinette limped up to the first set of steps in their way. With her fingers around the handrail, she put her right foot forward, gauging her weight on step number one as though testing the temperature of a swimming pool.

Hold up.

Did she plan to scale these stairs on her own?

He stepped forward. “If you’d like, I can—”

“No.” Her answer was short, but not impolite. More like she was on a mission. “I’ve got this.”

“You sure?”

The front of her ballerina flat touched the first step. Seeming satisfied with the level of pain, she ventured forward.

“Yeah, I’m—”

Her ankle buckled.

He lunged after her.

One hand clutched the curve of her waist.

The other gripped her shoulder.

“—totally in need of a little assistance.”

A little giggle followed her words and he couldn’t help but smile. He levelled her onto her feet. “Say no more.” Knees bent, he eased one hand across her back, while his other reached down to loop behind her legs.

A thought made him pop back to full height.

Was it socially acceptable to carry her bridal-style?

“Err – With your permission?”

The question hung in the air. And was it a trick of the light? Or were her cheeks a little rosier than usual? Maybe he needed an ice breaker. The kind of comment she’d expect from Chat Noir. _He’d_ carried her bridal style on more than one occasion.

“No altars, I promise.”

“I – I – Uh—”

Mistakes were made.

Her eyes darted every which way. None of those ways crossed paths with his own. And— Oh no! Her cheeks were _definitely_ rosy now. Had he just made her more uncomfortable?

“Sure,” she squeaked, much like the sound that had inspired the nickname ‘Marimouse’ last night. “Fine. Totally fine. Like, one hundred percent A-OK.” She placed her right hand across the nape of his neck, emphasising her words.

With a quiet sigh of relief, Adrien lifted her from the stairs into his arms, and her left hand slid behind his neck to join her right. He hadn’t started out his day expecting to sweep a cute girl off her feet, but here he was. That joke rode the tip of his tongue, barely withheld, because jeez, his last attempt at ice breaking had gone just splendidly.

As he began their descent down the stairs, Marinette spoke up again. “Sorry if I’m heavy...”

He almost laughed.

That hadn’t even crossed his mind.

His thoughts drifted a day into the past, to the puns they’d cracked in her kitchen. “Must’ve been the cheesecake. I’d _batter_ be extra careful while carrying you down these stairs!”

Eager for her reaction, his eyes flicked from the steps to her face. She didn’t disappoint.

No, she rolled her eyes.

He smirked in record time.

“I swear you’re like a walking punpedia.”

“You’re meant to _egg_ me on, Marinette. Have I _tarte_ you nothing?”

Banana puns. Baking puns. He was on a roll today. Punning against an artsy villain would be a piece of cake.

“Gosh, I pun with you once and suddenly, we’re pun buddies.”

Had his hands not been preoccupied, Adrien would’ve placed one to his heart. “Why, I hope you’re not planning to _dessert_ me?” This time, she groaned, but he didn’t miss the slight upward tilt of her lips. “Because that would _mousse_ definitely make me sad.”

With a shake of her head, she finally cracked a smile. Briefly, he wished he didn’t have to watch where he was going, so he could freely enjoy the fruits of his labours.

A few seconds ticked by, the thumps of his shoes against wood filling the silence. He reached a stair landing, strode by two doors, then continued down another set of steps.

Marinette sighed. “I feel kinda bad about leaving early.”

Adrien’s brows curled. If either of them should feel bad right now, it was _him_. He’d invited Kagami, after all, and here he was leaving her despite knowing she wasn’t at ease around acquaintances.

“Don’t feel bad, Marinette. Your health comes first. Any one of our friends would say the same.”

She was silent.

But one glance at her face revealed lips pursed by thought.

“Is this about leaving Luka?”

From the corner of his eye, Marinette nodded. “I just feel so lame for ditching him.”

Adrien shrugged. Well, as much as he could with her in his arms. “I’m sure he understands. I know I would if I was in his shoes.”

A quiet pause.

“You’re right.”

Adrien didn’t need to peel his eyes from the steps to know she was smiling. “So, uhh”—he cleared his throat—“did he really compose that song just for you?”

Another nod on her end.

“That’s pretty cool.” Even if it didn’t suit her as well as it could’ve. “Maybe _I_ should compose a song for you,” he thought aloud, already sifting through piano pieces he knew for inspiration. Something bright. Strong. Resilient. Joyful! Playing it needed to make him as happy as being around her did.

“I, um… I should probably text my parents.” Her left hand dropped from his neck to pull a smart phone from the front pocket of her pants. “I’m sure they’ll be happy to take me to the doctors, so you don’t have to.”

“Oh. Well, I…” It sure made transforming easier, but he still had to ask, “If that’s not too much trouble?”

With a shake of her head, Marinette held her phone near his shoulder. “‘Course not.” It clicked as she typed. “And this way you don’t have to leave everyone.”

Little did she know.

While Marinette tucked away her phone, he scaled the last of the steps and approached a wooden door, its surface scuffed from years of use. “Could you—”

Sure enough, she was already reaching for the brass knob.

They exchanged a smile as he planted his back to the door and reversed his way into an open-air corridor. “Nice work, team.”

That got a giggle out of her.

With Marinette still in his arms, Adrien strode by rows of beige mailboxes, a letter half hanging from one of the slots. She extended a hand and pushed it the rest of the way in.

“In case it’s something important.”

“Very typical of you,” he said with a wink.

Her eyes fell to her lap, but not before she smiled.

As they approached an iron gate, he recalled her earlier advice that it was never actually locked, and coaxed it open with his back. The street was fairly quiet. A few pigeons. A couple of motoring cars. And an old lady walking her sausage dog.

He glanced back at the entrance corridor beyond the iron gate. It’d make a good transformation spot. Well, as long as Marinette didn’t see him race inside, only for Chat Noir to leave a second later.

With that in mind, Adrien rounded a nearby corner to be met by an equally quiet street. Bending his knees, he set her down on the sidewalk and placed his hands on her shoulders, ready to catch her at a moment’s notice. “You okay to stand, Marinette?”

Her answer, as it turned out, was to press her petite fingers flush against his chest.

A second later, he froze as she slapped her hands to her face. “Sorry!” She peeked up at him from through her fingers. “I – Uh – The designer in me! She felt bad for creasing your dress shirt!”

That made sense.

Adrien placed a hand on her shoulder. “Don’t worry, Marinette. I’m a fashion model, remember? Unannounced crease correcting comes with the territory.” He chuckled. “Besides, I prefer _you_ doing it as opposed to some stranger.” After two light pats on her shoulder, his hand returned to his side, and his fingers drummed against his thighs. “So, err…” As much as he needed to scat, leaving her alone felt a little impolite. “I can keep you company until your parents get here?”

Marinette toyed with the hem of her cardigan. “That’s, uh, awfully nice of you, Adrien, but there’s really no need.” She tapped her fingers together as she peered up at him. “I – I mean, not that I don’t _want_ your company. Your company’s great. You just… umm… probably wanna get back to everyone else, right?”

Well, not exactly.

He slipped a hand behind his neck. “Are you sure, Marinette?”

“Adrien.” The boldness of her tone alone made him still. “ _Gateau_ of here.”

Did…

Did she just…

The smile that swept across her lips was answer enough. Man, she was awesome!

“How can I say _dough_ to that?” With a broad grin, he took two steps back the way they came. “Take it easy on that ankle, okay?”

“Uh – Yeah! Will do.”

“And I guess I’ll… see you Monday?”

“Yup. Monday! That’s when you’ll next be seeing me.”

“Great. See you then!”

With a two-fingered salute, he ducked around the corner and backtracked through the gate, rows of mailboxes affixed to the wall on his right.

Plagg zipped out of his messenger bag. “Finally!” By the way he snickered, he wasn’t really bothered. “Parting with your girlfriend is such sweet sorrow, hmm?”

Nope. Definitely not bothered.

“You said the same thing yesterday, Plagg.” He fiddled with the cuff of his dress shirt. “You know she’s just a friend.”

His kwami floated closer. “Don’t you mean a _pun buddy_?”

Adrien gave a wry smile. “Speaking of which”—he launched out his fist—“Plagg, claws out!”

In a flash of blinding green, Chat Noir stood where Adrien Agreste once had. He approached the gate, scanned the street for any onlookers, then raced out onto the sidewalk.

One tap of his baton launched him heavenward—and with a highly essential flip, he dropped to a nearby rooftop. In the distant cityscape, Montparnasse Tower stood like a sky-high circus.

“Good thing I’m wearing my clown costume.” He tapped the glowing paw on his staff, revealing its screen. “No messages from M’Lady? Well _colour_ me shocked.”

A few taps brought up the latest akuma update. No heroes on the scene yet. He glanced at his Bugabeacon. By the looks of it, she hadn’t transformed yet. Seemed he wasn’t the only one running fashionably late.

Chat gripped his staff tighter.

This was their first battle since his reveal.

Ladybug’s first battle with Adri—

No.

Her _second_ battle with Adrien.

And an agonising reminder of his desire to prove himself.

Sure, Chat Noir had done so for over a year, but he wasn’t just Chat Noir anymore. No, he was also Adrien Agreste, who’d failed to save her as Aspik for three months straight. Adrien Agreste, whose nightmares had been haunted by Desperada ever since. Adrien Agreste, who longed for redemption.

And today was his chance.

* * *

Marinette tottered into a nearby alleyway and propped her back against a weather-worn wall. Two painkillers, a dollop of anti-inflammatory cream and twenty minutes of ice-pack time, yet somehow her ankle throbbed more now than it had right after her fall.

Tikki whizzed out of her pink clutch, concern swimming in her eyes.

“Our first akuma in a week and I’ll be spending it _stumbling_ through Paris.” Marinette pushed off the wall to test out the injury. A little weight was wince-worthy, but bearable. Anything more active was another story. “Will my transformation do anything to ease the pain?”

Her kwami shook her head. “I’m sorry, Marinette! Injuries you get while de-transformed are out of my control. You’ll just have to be _extra_ careful.”

So it looked like she’d have to keep anything too jarring to a minimum. Well, _try_ to. Running and jumping were kind of necessary when it came to yoyo swinging and dodging dangerous projectiles.

“I’ll have to fight through the pain.” She shifted her weight to her good ankle. “At least it’s just a sprain. Or there’s _no way_ I’d be standing.”

Five storeys up, a blur of black leapt over the alley.

Tikki frowned. “What about Chat Noir?”

A touch of dread rematerialized, gripping her chest as it had upstairs. She’d thought – well, _maybe_ freaked out – about that on the way down. Though observing Adrien’s own ditch attempt had been a welcome distraction. And a fascinating one at that.

“He saw me walking fine during patrol last night.” She cupped her chin. “It’ll be hard to come up with a believable excuse, but...”

“I’m sure you’ll think of something.”

Marinette nodded. “I _have_ to.” Purpose hardened her eyes. “Tikki, spots on!”

Latex washed up her body in a glow of pale pink. Immediately, Ladybug reassessed her ankle, hoping for a miracle.

Alas, Lady Luck couldn’t solve everything.

She flicked up the screen of her yoyo. According to her Kitty Tracker, Chat Noir was already five blocks ahead of her. “He’s really hightailing it over there,” she thought aloud, and hurled her yoyo at the rim of the roof above. One tug sent her skyward.

Her toes touched down.

Her ankle caved.

Her knees slammed against the roof.

Ladybug groaned. “Focus!” The second time in a week she’d said that very thing. She’d let down her friends, her master, all of Paris. She refused to be that useless today.

Never again.

Ladybug hoisted herself to her feet and stared out at the Parisian skyline. Montparnasse Tower reached for the clouds like a multicoloured beacon. It’d already been about ten minutes since that footage had aired. She needed to get there _fast_.

But how could she do that with a busted ankle?

The Horse Miraculous wasn’t an option. The Miracle Box was stowed away in Master Fu’s old phonograph, atop the chest that housed Adrien’s many birthday gifts. Getting home would take almost as long as stumbling to Montparnasse.

A lightbulb went off in her head.

What if she embraced her inner Spider-Man? Swing more. Land less. Rest her ankle on the way there. Yeah, that could work. It’d be better than pushing her ankle before she’d even engaged Putricasso.

With her mind made up, she hurled her yoyo at a distant chimney. And as she spideyed her way over to Montparnasse, a month-old memory replayed in her mind.

_The sinking sun set the sky ablaze, splashing the Arc de Triomphe with its golden glow. Her legs swayed off the ledge of the aged monument in time with Chat Noir’s, while cars hummed underfoot._

_“Hey, LB?” He grinned at her, the tiny straw of a juice box brushing his lips. “Has it ever occurred to you that you’re like a female Spider-Man?”_

_“Y’know, my friends were discussing that very thing this week.”_

_“Ha! Mine too.” He took a hearty sip. “It makes sense, right? You’re both bug-themed. You wear lots of red. You swing around the city.”_

_“So if my comic counterpart’s Spider-Man, who’s yours?”_

_Chat puffed out his chest. “I am Batman,” he rasped, his voice an octave lower._

_She snorted. “I was thinking more along the lines of Cat Woman.”_

_With a pout, he passed the juice box to her awaiting hand. “Why not Black Panther?”_

_“Who?”_

_“Wow, M’Lady!” He slapped a dramatic paw to his heart. “That hurts my very soul!”_

_Through a smile, Ladybug took a small sip of juice. “Well,” she eventually said, “I think Chat Noir’s a much cooler superhero anyway.”_

_The smile he flashed her could’ve powered all of Europe._

_Then he opened his mouth._

_“Does this mean I can’t call you Spider-Woman?”_

Ladybug couldn’t help but laugh as she soared through the autumn air. She considered telling him their silly talk had come in handy. Maybe she’d even let him call her Paris’ friendly neighbourhood ladybug. He’d get a kick out of that for sure.

Up ahead, Montparnasse Tower was a fast-approaching eyesore—and a reminder that she still needed a reason for her injury. One scan of the area drew her attention to an ice rink. A very familiar ice rink. An excuse bloomed in her brain. A skating accident. One she’d suffered from first thing this morning. It wasn’t her finest cover-up, but her choices were gut-churningly limited. If ever there was a day for her luck to shine through, today was it.

With each street she swung through, the beige brickwork and timeworn buildings of Paris evolved into a mess of colourful shapes. Rooms stuck out at odd angles, far from structurally sound. Flying pigeons defied the laws of aerodynamics, their wings branching from their bodies like two featherless triangles. And Parisians panicked in the streets, their faces distorted and their bodies a jumbled state of jagged shapes. If a unicorn caught a stomach bug, she imagined the aftermath would look a lot like this.

A multicoloured beam sliced through the sky—just past Montparnasse Cemetery, where an expanse of tombstones dotted the land. More beams burst from between a distant street and with narrowed eyes, she veered toward them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The akuma battle will definitely be in the next chapter, I purromise. ;D For anyone who's interested, I've started another multi-chapter called [The Asset Ordeal](https://archiveofourown.org/works/25974814/chapters/63145477). It's just some fun, easy-going Adrienette and Marichat told solely through Instagram messages. Until my next update, take care and have a great remainder of your day! :)

**Author's Note:**

> If you’d like to get in on an awesome Miraculous community, join the [Miraculous Fanworks Discord server](https://discord.gg/mlfanworks)! :D
> 
> Find me on [Tumblr](https://captainmeowvelwrites.tumblr.com)!


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